


The Secret of the Blue Rocket

by leeraywood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeraywood/pseuds/leeraywood
Summary: Lee Raywood and Remus Lupin are the sole insights into a deeper and more frightening world within the wizarding community. In the climax of The First Wizarding War, Lee must return to Britain for the first time in years in order to bring The Order something they don't have: information on Greyback's growing werewolf battalion. Her espionage seems straight-forward, but will her preparation be enough to face a war she has been so isolated from? Lee and Remus are working to prove to the world they are more than what the moon dictates.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**_2 March 1981_ **

“Remus? Remus Lupin, could that be you?”

A slightly frazzled, disheveled man turned around. His hair hung in front of his eyes, almost meeting the small mustache he seemed to be trying to grow. The top buttons of his patterned shirt were undone, and the sleeves were rolled sloppily up to his elbows. He held a mug in his hand full of steaming tea, by the smell of it something fruity, and quickly surveyed the woman calling out his name.

The woman confidently strolled up, still bundled up from the cold winter morning outside. She took off her earmuffs and let them hang around her neck. Her brown hair was cropped tightly around and over her ears, but her long bangs fell loosely on her forehead. She had been out for the day, whether it had been business or a social call Remus did not know, but her deep brown eyes were sparkling. Paired with the glint from the silver hoop in her nose and her dangling amber earrings, she was radiating. The woman did feel that way, stumbling upon an old acquaintance like this – _here_ of all places.

“Remus Lupin, what in Heaven’s name are you doing at this old place?” She laughed, but taking a step forward, she lowered her voice, “In a _Muggle_ coffee shop of all places?”

A coy smile danced on her lips as she looked up, without raising her head, at the tall, still gangly man who now stood just feet away from her. Remus was silent. He was not keen on embracing strangers into his life. These were dangerous times and, he especially, needed to have his wits about him. The woman who was so near him stunned him. Perhaps because they were in, as she said, a Muggle coffee shop, she allowed herself to be more joking. So rarely now was that met without suspicion in his reality, in the shops he frequented during his school days or even within the very gates of that school.

The woman straightened and hastily unwound her bulky scarf that entombed her up to her nose. He could see her now. They bore similar scars. Remus’ was entirely more evident; plastered across his face from eyebrow to below his lip, it was a reminder of what afflicted him. Hers, although not entirely out of sight, only revealed themselves if she wanted them to. Four trailing scars made their way down the side of her face, the longest beginning at the end of her brow, down her cheek, and cut through her ear. Unbeknownst to everyday winter passerby’s, underneath the bundle of winter attire to protect against the nipping cold, a collection of scars continued their way across and around her torso.

“Lee,” Remus breathed.

She smirked, “Took you long enough.”

Remus was still in a mild shock, but Lee was already whipping about the shop, tossing her scarf and jacket onto a nearby bench.

“Listen, are you in a hurry? I’d love to catch up. I’m in town for a little while and wouldn’t have even known where to begin in searching for you. It’s quite a task to find one of us, eh? I’ll go run and get myself a drink. Be back in a jiff.”

And with that she swiftly turned towards the cashier, making light, yet animated conversation with the worker as she perused the baked goods options. Remus was still standing, steaming mug in hand when she came back. Her face fell.

“I’m sorry mate. I must have given you quite a scare,” she said remorsefully, “I’ll send you an owl, we can meet up another time.”

“No!” Remus immediately regretted how forceful he sounded.

However, Lee lit up, “Perfect. Pop a squat, my love.”

Lee was not sure herself where this confidence and casual nature manifested itself from, but she felt at ease with Remus. It had been years since her parents whisked her away from Britain and together transplanted their lives into Canada. Within 36 hours, her nine-year-old life was upturned after that fateful night and as it goes, nine-year-olds are not very good at keeping in contact. Now, it had been more than ten years and she had finally made it back to the island.

She nestled herself onto the bench and Remus slowly sat down on the opposite side of the table in a cushioned wooden chair. This coffee shop was quite quaint. Brightly lit only due to the uncharacteristically sunny day outside, but otherwise, candles dotted the tables and only one low-burning light hung from the center of the shop.

“Lee, what are you doing here?” Remus said although he did not know whether his tone was grave or happy. Yet before Lee could respond, he continued, “Merlin, how long has it been? I didn’t recognize you - where did your crooked teeth go? And your long hair, when did you hack all that off? You have no idea how awful we felt – Merlin, how awful _I_ felt when you left. My parents were beside themselves, but me? I was so scared as to how I was going to face school without – ”

“Here you go, love,” interrupted the server, placing Lee’s cranberry tea and scone in front of her, “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“If you’ll be at my aide when I burn myself, I’ll take my chances,” Lee smirked as she cupped the mug in her hands. The young server stifled a smile and tucked her hair behind her ear, before scurrying away to hide her blush. Remus watched the interaction, impressed. He remembered his closest childhood friend in a much different light than what she presented now. He remembered exactly what it felt like to feel so helpless as he watched her go through the worst moment of her life. Her worst moment quickly replaced his, and he had felt burdened by it ever since. Remus wished to make it right, even at his young age, but when he set out to do so, Lee and her family had already gone far, far away.

“Remmy, er – Remus,” Lee stumbled over her words, and carefully made sure to continue sounding light-hearted, “It’s absolutely insane that we’ve stumbled upon each other like this.”

Remus slumped down into his seat, not necessarily disappointed, but suddenly overwhelmed.

“You survived, didn’t you?” Lee gave a small smile and reached to pat his hand but stopped herself. Uneasiness crept up inside her, “Well more than survived, you look absolutely phenomenal! Who can I accredit this marvelous upbringing to? How are your parents?”

Remus’ gaze dropped into his mug, “They’ve passed on. Mum went two years ago, and I don’t think Dad could quite cope without her and he died just a few months ago.”

“Remus, I’m so sorry.”

This time Lee took his hand, but Remus was the one to disengage. He became unexpectantly angry with Lee. His logic told him it was irrational to be angry at her for bringing up his dead parents, how could she have known anyway? But that didn’t quell the emotion churning in his stomach.

“What happened to you, Lee?” Remus met Lee’s eyes, pleadingly, “And why are you suddenly back?”

“We had to leave, Remus. My mum knew how difficult it would be for me – ” she caught herself, “How difficult it would be for _us_ if we had stayed. Britain is terribly backward on this sort of thing, you know firsthand. Having to be registered, numbered, and practically watched our entire lives, nothing of the sort happens in Canada. I was lucky my parents had contacted over there and so the second I could sit up after that night, we left.”

Remus mulled this over, “I’m being terribly silly if I’m expecting you to apologize on account of what happened when we were _nine_. It’s not like we had any autonomy over our lives.”

Lee smiled, “Rightfully so. If we had any autonomy over our lives at that age, the whole country would be up in flames!”

“But,” Remus began, something still wasn’t sitting right with him, “what possessed you to come back? I’m sure you know how times are now – it’s not the safest time to be taking a holiday in the wizarding world of Britain.”

This made Lee’s heart jump. She truly hadn’t expected to run into anyone she knew and had not had enough time to cultivate an appropriate backstory. And Remus is… well, Remus. He knows her family. But truthfully, how much does she know about him? Twelve years changes a person and it would be foolish of her to assume he’d stayed the same little boy he once was. Timid and afraid to step out of line, preoccupied and never having a full night’s rest.

“I’m here on official business,” she deviated, taking a long sip of her tea. Remus squinted, the excitement of reacquaintance was fading. Lee was a stranger. Where did her loyalties lie? Did her loyalties lie anywhere? How involved was Canada in this whole debacle?

“I work for the Canadian Ministry and have been sent over to gauge the situation. There have been stirrings on our side of the pond too, you know,” She further explained, but Lee could see that Remus was not satisfied, “I work in our equivalent of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Finally, Remus relaxed. She was glad as she didn’t know how much fuel she had left in her.

Remus leaned forward, and inquired quietly, “They let you hold power in your Ministry, even with your status?”

“Of course, Remus! Like I said, the discrimination here doesn’t exist over there. Now I just don’t go parading around telling everyone my status, but systematically, it’s not a problem,” Lee said with a small smile, “But if it makes you feel any better, they had me start out in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

Remus snorted, “Oh Merlin, how subtle of them.”

Lee was glad he was joking with her. She took a big gulp of her tea and a huge bite out of her otherwise untouched scone as she stood up.

“Remmy, I’m frightfully sorry, I have a meeting I have to run to,” she said hurriedly, as she began the laborious task of dressing herself again for the tundra outdoors, “But please, _please_ we must see each other.”

“O-Of course,” Remus found himself saying, “I should actually dash, too. Where are you walking to?”

Lee chuckled, “To a nearby alley and then I’ll be off. I’ll write you an owl when I’m done.”

Remus stood up and gulped down his tea as Lee continued, “Listen Remmy, it was amazing to see you. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

She took a step towards Remus, “I want to pick your brain about something not appropriate for our whereabouts now, understand?”

Remus nodded, he wondered what her meeting was about. With whom? Was it with the Ministry or some intelligence operation? He had this nagging feeling but could not describe it. He wanted to trust Lee, but the current state of affairs was making it difficult for him to do so.

“Alright, love, I’ll be off. I’ll see you around, eh?” Lee said her goodbyes and pivoted on her heel to walk out of the shop. She gave one final wave, in her mittened hand, to Remus before leaving and disappearing around the corner. Remus sat back down with a long sigh, but glancing at the clock on the wall, sprang back up to his feet. The Order was waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

**_26 February 1981_ **

It had been awful. And as she sat against the bed, face buried deep within her turtleneck, she contemplated how to get on with her day. The funerals were just yesterday – she had a right to lay around the house for the day, right? With a large sigh into her sweater, she heaved herself up to her feet and set her now-cold mug of tea on the dresser.

Her fingers traced over the edges of a photograph her father had on his desk. There was her father, Nassir, her mother, Cybil, and Lee saw her own, unscarred face smushed up against her little sister, Esmeray’s. She lingered on her father’s face.

Lee’s dad most recently left her. Nassir was a bright young man from Turkey. All his life, he had intended on staying in Ankara. He worked in his own father’s shop, selling herbs and remedies for all sorts of maladies. He was quite good at his job; the skill never left him. Lee thought back to all those months he concocted remedies for her joint pain, headaches, stomachaches and cuts and bruises. Her father was more of a caregiver than her mother ever was. Lee grimaced. As much as she tried not to remember her mother poorly, the thoughts continued to circulate in the back of her mind and would come to the forefront every so often. Quickly, she refocused her attention on Nassir.

As she stood in his bedroom, she smiled to herself at how he would be chastising her for wearing her beloved, worn-down knee-length shorts in the dead of winter. Lee couldn’t bring herself to do the washing, not even the simple flick of the wrist it was. Setting the photo into its original place on the nightstand, she turned and faced the room and placed her hands on her hips. A single stride and she was on the other side of the room, staring at her father’s lunar calendar. How was she to do this without him?

As a Muggle, Lee’s father eagerly threw himself into the wizarding world when he met Cybil, a bright, young aurologist doing research in Ankara that summer. Cybil’s study of auras closely connected to the medicines Nassir and his father prescribed. The two were married by the next autumn. Neither Nassir nor Cybil expected what life was going to throw at them. Nassir did not expect his own daughter to bring him his own death.

Lee didn’t like to think about it. She doesn’t remember it.

A week ago, was the full moon. In their small town of Ucluelet, British Columbia, the Raywoods knew that they were safe. With a year-round population of less than 2,000, there was little chance to get caught. They had a cabin home on the outskirts of Pacific Rim National Park Reserve, deeply hidden within the walls of the old-growth forest. Cybil was old friends with the Nuu-chah-nulth Tribal Council and, upon explaining her family’s dire need of help, was granted access to some land to help protect her daughter.

Her father and she did their monthly routine. She took her pain medicine the night before and the day was spent making as little movement around the house as possible, for even with the pain medication, Lee could never shake the migraine that throbbed between her eyes. Her dad prepared the cellar. It never got easier for him, to lock his daughter away in her time of need.

Just before sunset, Mary came by. Lee was curled up in her father’s sitting chair, so well-loved that she sunk into it further and further every time she sat down. There was no electricity in the house. The only source of light was a flickering candle on the coffee table. Lee couldn’t bear the light directly, but as she sat, tucked in on all sides with a quilt handmade by Mary herself, with her eyes closed, the light was pleasant, dancing across her eyelids soothingly.

Mary was an elder member of the Nuu-chah-nulth First Nation. She always knew how to help Nassir. To her, Lee was blessed with a special privilege: to see the world through the eyes of the wolf. This was not a blessing resent; it was meant to be embraced. Mary, from Lee’s first days in Ucluelet, wished to imprint this onto the young girl. In the meantime, she brought Nassir the loveliest and freshest bannock she could make to help ease his nausea as his daughter called out to him.

Everything went according to plan. Lee descended down to the cellar, stood by the door as her father secured it, even violently shook at the door to check the multiple, heavy-duty locks’ strength. It was no different than any other full moon.

Yet, that next morning, instead of waking up in the cellar, Lee was out in the forest. On her stumble back home, she discovered her father and Mary – dead.

Lee’s knees buckled, bringing her out of her thoughts, but not in time to contain herself. She hurled all over the floor.

“ _Shit_ ,” she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She heaved herself to her feet and stared at the spew all over the wooden floor. Lee sloppily waved her hand to clean up the mess and within a few seconds, it was as though nothing had ever happened.

Slowly, she made her way into the living room, her arms hanging lifelessly at her side. Plopping herself down onto the only bit of wooden floor covered by a rug, her own screams echoed in her head from that wretched morning. She screamed and screamed, holding her father’s head in her lap and Mary’s hand in hers. Lee knew immediately what she had done, although with no recollection of the act. She had no idea how long she was sobbing for when Augustina, a young girl no doubt sent to look for Mary, had found her.

Lee snapped out of her thoughts. The fireplace was beginning to sputter and crackle before her. She slowly crawled forward towards it. Embers were flying right and left, and the logs seemed to be groaning and shifting, ready to burst at a moment’s notice. Lee was enchanted by their movement; she leaned a little too close when the logs finally gave way and erupted into roaring flames. Jerking back just in time, the fire’s flames danced mercilessly above the logs and slowly, revealed what was on the other side.

An old man. He had a long beard, spectacles perched nearly on the tip of his nose, and a hat controlling his frizzed hair.

Lee was at a loss for words.

“Miss Jubilee Raywood?” the old man chirped. Lee opened her mouth, closed it again, opened and closed, then simply nodded.

“Speak up, my dear, the flames are creating quite a racket.”

Lee swallowed, “Yeah, yes, I’m Jubilee.”

“Fantastic!” the man exclaimed, “I am sure you don’t remember me by now, it has been quite a while since our last encounter. I am Albus Dumbledore, current Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.”

Albus concluded as if to give Lee the floor to say something. Lee stared.

“Now, Miss Raywood,” Albus said, frighteningly more serious, “I have been given intelligence, on _your_ intelligence recently, to do with the rise of the werewolf following in Britain these last few years. Your work with the Canadian Ministry has not gone unnoticed.”

She blinked. Lee had not been to work in what felt like ages.

“I remember you,” she finally said. Albus pursed his lips, approvingly, as she continued, “You helped us get to Canada.”

“Indeed. I am glad we are reacquainted now,” Albus bowed his head, “I understand that you and your father, albeit a Muggle, have been working on a remedy for lycanthropy. One that could keep the mind of a werewolf during a full-moon transformation. I am also aware that your father, Mr. Nassir Raywood, has been the mastermind behind this potion. Is he available at the moment? I would love a moment to speak with both you and his present.”

Lee hadn’t told anyone that her father was dead. Truth be told, Lee didn’t have anyone to tell. Albus Dumbledore seemed to be the only person who knew of her father, outside of his family back in Turkey, who they had broke contact with when they moved to Canada.

“Uhm… Sir, er – Mr. Dumbledore,” Lee bit her lip, “My father is _indisposed_ at the moment.”

Albus furrowed his brow. Lee was starting to sweat, though whether it was from her proximity to the fire or stress, she didn’t know.

“Indisposed in what sense, Miss Raywood? Will I be able to speak with him at a later hour?”

“My father is dead,” Lee said as stonily as she could muster.

The words did not change the look on Albus Dumbledore’s face, but he did mutter, “Oh dear Merlin…”

“Yes,” Lee said, looking away from the flames so the man would not see the tears welling up in her eyes, “Is there anything the Canadian Department of International Magical Cooperation can do for you, sir?”

Without missing a beat, “We request your presence in London, as soon as is feasible. Please bring all supplies, as necessary, for the brewing of the potion-in-question, and all necessary documentation of the relevant information gathered. Travel arrangements will arrive by nightfall, tonight. The codeword is _hinkypunk_.”

Lee’s initial reaction was to protest. To say something along the lines of _No, she absolutely cannot leave home at such short notice_. However, before any word of objection could leave her lips, the flames sputtered out, leaving her alone in the living room once again.


	3. Chapter 3

**_2 March 1981_ **

Lee looked at the crumpled, smudged piece of paper in her hand. She cursed herself for not being more careful with it. Although she had the name of the inn she was supposed to go to, she had no idea where it was. In addition, she was freezing her bloody arse off; she did a jig in the middle of the street to keep herself warm. Although it was already March, and spring was supposedly around the corner, Scotland was unrelenting in its winter and freshly fallen snow clung to the ground. Apparition comes at a price; it is a heavy toll on the body’s energy, and in this kind of March cold, it sucked all the warmth out of you. This piece of paper once had the directions to the inn clearly written down, as were corresponded to her, but her constant fidgeting wore the paper down.

Helplessly, she looked around. Although she was in a wizarding neighborhood, she couldn’t exactly stroll up to the nearest pedestrian and ask them where the inn was – if there even were any pedestrians, the village looked abandoned. She aimlessly walked up and down the High Street, but it then occurred to her that her logic was off. A secret meeting would not be taking place in the center of town, where anybody could stumble upon them. Lee put up the hood of her jacket and rounded the corner at an establishment called The Three Broomsticks.

As she made her way off High Street, she noticed another hooded figure trudging through the snow. It made her stop in her tracks, yet the other person did not seem to notice her. Lee waited, listening only to her own breathing in the eerily quiet town of Hogsmeade. She tracked the individual with her eyes and watched as they threw open the door to a building and bustled in. At last, she looked up and right before her was the wooden sign she had been looking for. Swinging in the wind, it read _Hog’s Head Inn_.

“Finally,” Lee muttered to herself and quickly plodded her way through the snow. The inn looked dingy, almost as if it’s hey-days had passed. Yanking the door open, a bell tinkled above her. She quickly entered, pulling it shut behind her, so as not to let any more cold air in. The person who had just entered was nowhere in sight.

“Ah! Miss Raywood! I am so glad you could make it,” a voice rang out from across the room. An elderly man stepped into the light beaming in through the window. He was dressed in long, grey robes that were only a shade or two darker than his hair. His long beard reached down to his navel and was tied by a single, simple string.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Lee smiled, “I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

Dumbledore let out a light chortle, “As am I, Miss Raywood. But I do wonder, could you relay to me the code we have established?”

“‘Hinkypunk,’” Lee said, still unsure of what the word meant.

“Excellent,” Dumbledore concluded with a nod of the head, “Let us hurry, the others are awaiting us in the basement.”

He placed a hand on her back and guided her towards the cellar door. He pulled out his wand and with a _click!_ the door creaked open. Gesturing for her to enter, Lee took the first step forward into a dark corridor.

As she descended the rickety staircase down into the basement, she began to hear voices. What struck her in particular, was that these voices were not hushed nor sparse, they were loud, animated, laughing even. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth amidst her nerves. Finally, she and Dumbledore reached another door with a strong light spilling through the cracks. Dumbledore unlocked the door once again and they were invited into the cacophony of sound.

There were at least 20 people crammed into that small cellar room. Wizards and witches of all ages stood around the room, trying to make themselves comfortable. A lucky few were seated by the table. As Dumbledore stepped into full view, the room slowly began to quiet. That is until a glass shattered.

 _SHCHING_ – it rang in everyone’s ears. The entire room jumped to attention and wands were at the ready, even Lee found herself in position.

“Sorry! Sorry! My bad, completely my fault, everyone sit back down,” A young voice calmed the room. Lee could not see who had said this. She and Dumbledore had been pushed back into the door they came through when everyone leaped to their feet.

After the moment of stress washed away, a young man with dark, messy hair and glasses admonished his friend, “Bloody hell, Moony, be a little more careful, will ya?”

The bespectacled man sat back down in his seat, revealing the culprit of the broken china.

“Moony?” Lee whispered to herself, very amused at the nickname. What did Remus say before? _How subtle_.

“Sorry, I was just – er, shocked,” Remus mumbled, flicking his wand to clean up the mess he had made. A new reassembled glass clattered to the counter.

“Ah yes, Miss Raywood, Mr. Lupin, I do believe you two know each other,” Dumbledore smiled and clasped his hands together.

 _Who is that?_ Another young man, with long brown hair mouthed to Remus, clearly jutting his thumb towards the new person in the room. Remus paid him no attention.

“With everyone here, I do believe we can begin,” Dumbledore assumed his position at the head of the table. He did not sit down, “As Mr. Lupin has so kindly brought to our attention, there’s an unfamiliar face in the room. May I present, Miss Jubilee Raywood. Miss Raywood, welcome to the Order of the Phoenix.”

Lee gave a small smile to the unimpressed room.

 _“Bloody hell, Albus!_ ” This time an older man seated at the table growled, he stood to his feet and banged his cane on the floor, making Lee jump, “When you said you were bringing over a Canadian Ministry official with intelligence, I was not expecting a _young girl_ to come!”

“Settle down, Alastor,” Dumbledore raised a hand, and Alastor grumbled as he sat back down. Dumbledore addressed the room once again, “Miss Raywood comes to us with extremely useful knowledge on the whereabouts and the developments of the notorious werewolf, Fenrir Greyback and his pack.”

Lee’s eyes darted over to Remus as he choked on his tea, but she avoided making eye contact with him once he regained composure.

“And how _exactly_ do you know the whereabouts of Greyback, missy? How do we know you’re not allied to him? Greyback isn’t exactly the friendliest chap,” Alastor sneered.

Lee opened her mouth to respond, but Dumbledore interjected, “All will be revealed shortly. Miss Raywood will state her case in due time. However, at the moment, we have more urgent matters to discuss.”

All the while, while Dumbledore talked, the room kept their eyes glued to Lee. She had taken off her scarf and coat, so her scars were in full view. She tried to keep focused on what Dumbledore was saying as she leaned against the wall. Quietly, she observed the members of the Order.

Alastor was an older gentleman, clearly with a lot of experience to be countering Dumbledore with such confidence. Remus stood at the back of the room, still not fully processing that this was what Lee meant when she said she had a meeting to attend. The young man with long hair and the bespectacled man’s eyes flitted between Remis and Lee, their brows furrowed trying to figure out this unknown friend of Remus’. Lee was not a familiar face from Hogwarts, so how could she know Remus? They all seemed around the same age, and near them a woman with brilliant red hair leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. She was intently watching Dumbledore, possibly the only one in the room fully engaged with what he was saying. Lee was not fully concerned with missing vital information, Dumbledore had enlightened her prior to the meeting.

Things were escalating. With the removal of Britain’s Minister of Magic Harold Minchum from office, his replacement Millicent Bagnold seemed to be doing nothing to progress the end of the war. Minchum was a hardliner most known for his heightened security of Azkaban by recruiting more Dementors to the space. Bagnold, however, had yet to make a public statement. The Order was worried this transitional period would be perceived as a weakness in the Ministry that Voldemort and his Death Eaters would try to take advantage of.

“Now, I hate to shed more bad news unto the room, however, Miss Raywood has uncovered some deeply troubling news,” Dumbledore was ready to steer the focus of the room onto someone else, “Miss Raywood?”

Lee straightened, “Er - , hello. I’m sure we will all be properly introduced in just a moment’s time. But, er -, as Professor Dumbledore said, I am Jubilee Raywood. I work for the Canadian Ministry of Magic under the Department of International Magical Cooperation but began my time in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The Canadian Ministry and I have been following the war from our side of the pond ever since mass recruitment of Death Eaters began in 1978, by which some of you were affected, I believe.”

A few of the younger Order members exchanged uneasy glances.

“Part of this recruitment was the official cementation of Fenrir Greyback’s pack into line with Death Eater practices and beliefs. This had been suspected for a long time; however, we now have reason to believe that Voldemort is planning an onslaught on Muggle and wizarding families alike, adults and children, throughout Britain to bolster up his werewolf following. Lycanthropy cannot yet be successfully cured, as I’m sure you all know. Nonetheless, I have been devoted to finding an effective means to manage it for the past four years. I have returned to Britain in an attempt to finish this, but I am going to need the Order’s help. I do believe a favorable outcome is for the both of us, because if I can collect the final ingredients that I need and effectively trial the potion by the next full moon – we have a solution on our hands to the rising werewolf army Voldemort is recruiting.”

Lee breathed once again. She hadn’t realized she said that all without breathing. Her nerves were rattling her, and she clasped her hands together to prevent any visible shaking. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Remus. 

The room was silent. They were all processing what had been announced.

A woman with shorter, spiky black hair spoke up, “Yes, that is concerning, but how do we know you’re not in favor of such an outcome? In fact, why is the Canadian Ministry involved at all?”

Lee had nothing to lose, she quickly responded, “I was born in Britain. Lived here for the first nine years of my life. On the night of a full moon, I wasn’t careful enough, and was mauled and bitten by a werewolf – Greyback.”

Her hand involuntarily touched the scars on her face. The room shifted uneasily.

Lee continued, “My family thought we were safe until that happened. Panic from the 1965 Muggle killings had faded. Of course, I don’t want anything like that to happen again, on an individual scale or catastrophically on a national scale. That could easily blow over to an international war.”

The woman whose question Lee answered nodded and sat back in her chair. She seemed satisfied.

“I want all of you to respond to the acquiring of this information with the utmost attention,” Dumbledore commanded. It was gentle, yet firm. “I will be in contact with those I want specifically on the project, but the rest of you, continue gathering intelligence. If the Ministry is reluctant to personally incriminate Death Eaters, it is our duty to do so.”

Lee felt the energy in the room shift. When given their orders, the members let the adrenaline course through them. There was a buzzing in the air now, as opposed to the prior deafening silence.

“Now I’m sure Lily and James, and Frank and Alice are desperate to get back to their sons,” Dumbledore gave a warm smile, “Be off with you all!”

As chairs scraped against the floor and people began moving about, Remus beelined to Lee.

“Well,” Lee smiled widely, “I guess I don’t have to write you an owl now.”

Remus was at a loss for words, but his stupor was interrupted by his long-haired friend.

“Well, well Jubilee,” he sauntered up behind Remus and extended his hand out, “My name is Sirius Black. Pleasure to meet you.”

Lee shook his hand firmly, “Black? As in, _the_ Blacks?”

Sirius’ face darkened, “Aye, I’m just so glad my family’s lunacy made it all the way to Canada too.”

“No sweat, Sirius,” Lee lightly punched his arm, “If a werewolf can redeem herself, I’m sure a Black can.”

Sirius gave an uneasy laugh and side-eyed Remus, who was still looking at Lee with disbelief, “Right, exactly. So how do you know my dear old friend, Moony?”

“Hello Jubilee,” A sweet voice emerged next to Remus. The glasses-wearing man came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the red-haired woman Lee noticed earlier said, “I’m Lily Potter, and this behind me is my husband, James.”

James extended his arm out over Lily’s shoulder, “Pleased to meet you.”

“Ahem,” Sirius coughed, “Don’t you two have a sleeping baby to take care of?”

Lily rolled her eyes, “Sirius Black, he’s your godson, maybe babysit once in a while?”

“Sure! Hand over the kid, we’ll have a rockin’ time,” Sirius flashed a smile at Lily.

“I rescind my statement,” Lily rolled her eyes again, which seemed to be a habit around Sirius, “But you’re right, Harry is waiting. Jubilee don’t think you’re getting off this easy. Come to our home for dinner on Thursday night. I’m sure Remus will be happy to show you the way.”

James teasingly rustled Remus’ hair, “You’re not off the hook either, Moony. I expect _details_.”

Although he was easily a head shorter than Remus, Sirius draped his arm around his shoulders. He was ready to interrogate Lee, but his attempt was foiled by the other Order members on their way out, wanting to say a few words to Lee. It was a whirlwind of an occasion. The spiky-haired woman introduced herself and her husband as Alice and Frank Longbottom. They had a son about the same age as Lily and James’ named Neville. After that, there were the Prewett twins, Fabian and Gideon: tall, lanky men, who were the first to congratulate Lee on her achievements.

“How is it that someone so young has worked through two Ministry departments already? Bloody phenomenal!” Fabian exclaimed.

Aberforth Dumbledore presented himself as the owner of the inn, albeit begrudgingly. He was much larger than his brother, in all proportions. He was delighted that for today’s meeting, his brother did not spontaneously conjure food onto the table from his inn’s kitchen. Finally, the last few Order members saw themselves out and Dumbledore threw Lee a wink before he himself apparated out of the inn, which left Remus, Sirius, and Lee alone in the Hog’s Head Inn cellar.

Lee turned to face the men. She couldn’t help but feel a pang in her stomach. She and Remmy were predestined to be life-long friends.

She let out a long sigh, “So lads, are we up for a drink?”

Sirius flashed that same wicked smile from before, “Jubilee, are you a Legilimens? Reading my mind on how to win me over?”

“It’s on me, boys,” She grabbed her coat and gestured for the guys to follow her. She hadn’t a clue where she was going, but it was the first time in a long while she felt as though she accomplished something as simple as making friends.


	4. Chapter 4

They were four Firewhiskeys in. Remus was done for the night, but clearly Lee and Sirius were not. It was barely evening, but the three wished to spend some time together and, since they were the only rowdy group in the bar, service was fast. Sirius needed to get acquainted with Lee of course. Remus was a tad resentful that Sirius had injected himself into this reunion. Remus understood, however, that Sirius needed some time off from the war, like the rest of them, too. It had been twelve years since he had seen Lee and that last time he saw her wasn’t exactly the best.

He didn’t remember the night he was bitten very well. He was four years old, his father had angered the most ferocious werewolf known to the wizarding world, and, as a father, Lyall Lupin paid the ultimate price. For Remus, this was the only reality he had ever truly known. He doesn’t remember the time in his life when he didn’t transform into a werewolf. This did not console him, more so it disturbed him. Once a month, he would turn into a creature no better than a rabid dog, unable to control itself. He had grown up fearful of befriending anyone for fear of judgment, of anxiety, and of abandonment.

Then when he was six years old, he met Lee, going by Lee-Lee at the time. They were of the same year; he was her senior only by a couple of months. At the beginning of their friendship, neither one knew that each other came from a wizarding household. Lee’s mother, Cybil Raywood, was an aurologist who was often called away for Ministry work, leaving Lee’s father, Nassir Raywood, to look after little Lee at home. It was an odd household dynamic, one not common in the era, but the Raywoods did it well.

Non-magical Nassir was always interacting with the parents of Lee’s newfound friend, Remus. Lyall Lupin was often whisked away to his Ministry work, spending late nights and sometimes weekends in the office, while Hope, also non-magical, was taking care of Remus. Therefore, the two Muggle parents had no reason to believe the other child was magical.

As Sirius and Lee loudly compared their country’s Ministries, Remus chuckled to himself. The war had taken a toll on everyone’s life in Britain. It had stripped Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter of their youth and forced them to take on duties that could alter the fate of the wizarding world as they know it. As Lee pointed out, if Voldemort were to win, the world could easily become his realm. Lee had not yet been drained by the war. She was aware, of course, but she had not lived it as they had. It was very refreshing to be around her.

Lee was the reason the Raywoods and Lupins learned they shared a large commonality. Nassir had brought Lee-Lee over for a playdate. While the children were playing in the yard, Hope and Nassir were chatting, keeping their son and daughter in peripheral vision. Remus came bounding over in hysterics, sniveling and unable to explain to his distraught mother what was wrong. Nassir’s heart plummeted deep into his stomach as he scanned the Lupin’s yard and saw Lee-Lee nowhere. The parents were in a frenzy shouting and calling for Lee-Lee when suddenly, a small voice rang up from above them.

“Baba! Baba!”

There was little Lee-Lee, on the roof of the three-story Lupin house, smiling and waving, feeling as though she had accomplished the grandest feat in the world. She had apparated onto the roof.

Remus was smiling to himself, turning the nearly empty glass of Firewhiskey round and round in his hands. He only then realized that the conversation next to him had ceased. Looking over, he exasperatedly put his head into his hands. Sirius and Lee were chugging their fifth glasses of Firewhiskey.

“Alright,” Remus stood up and removed the glasses from their lips, “I feel like, we’ve had enough.”

“Moony, Moony, oh come now,” Sirius put his head on his friend’s arm, then looked at Lee disappointedly, “We’ve let him sober up, Jubilee. We shoulda known we’d lose him.”

“Please, love, call me Lee,” she hiccupped, then embarrassed, covered her mouth and turned beet red. Lee coughed, “No, no, Remmy is right. I should probably get home.”

Sirius cackled, “First of all,” he turned to Remus, “ _Remmy_? And second of all, there’s no way you’re going home alone.”

Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius’ teasing and, while hoisting his friend up, he said, “He’s right, Lee. Let’s drop this bloke off and then I’ll take you home.”

The bar they had chosen was just underneath Sirius’ apartment. Lupin dragged Sirius up the stairs behind the bar counter, calling out his apologies to the bartender, who simply smirked as he was cleaning their glasses.

Lee painstakingly sorted through the foreign currency for the barman. As she was counting her Knuts and Sickles, a chill went down her spine. Without moving, she perked up her attention. She smelled the air – a skill that she resented having but would come in handy every once in a while. There was a definite stink. Her and the barman made eye contact, but neither stopped what they were doing.

In the reflection of a mirror on the wall, Lee could see that outside, a pair stood by the doors of the bar. Two men, by the looks of it. However, with her two years in the Magical Creatures department and, of course, being a magical creature herself, Lee could tell these men weren’t simply wizards. If she could smell them, they could smell her.

As if reading her mind, they sauntered into the bar and sat at the table nearest the door. Lee finished counting out the money she owed the bartender, and said, “Do you mind if I take a smoke in here, mate?”

The bartender looked as though he wanted to say no, she couldn’t, but just gave a curt nod instead.

“Ah, thanks mate, you’re a bloody lifesaver,” she mumbled with a cigarette between her lips and lit it. Her smell was entirely clouded by burning tobacco now. As she smoked, she watched the new men grumble to themselves in the mirror. Where was Remus? Her leg bounced up and down impatiently.

“Oi!” She froze instead of turning around to face the men.

“Oi, love!” they called again. This time she turned, “Can you take that fag outta here?”

“Yea, yes of course,” she smiled as she slid down from the barstool, “So sorry about that. Bad Muggle habit I picked up.”

As she walked out of the bar, Remus came bounding down the steps. Her heart stopped. His smell.

“Oh! There you are! Gosh, you got me so anxious, waiting here for you!” She ran to him and enshrouded him in her cigarette smoke. Remus grabbed her as she stumbled over her own two feet, laughing. He started to cough and batted the cigarette away from his face.

“What in bloody – ”

“Come on, let’s go, love,” and Lee rushed him out the door. She didn’t stop walking until they were out of sight of the bar.

“What… are you _doing_?” Remus hissed and grabbed her arm to stop her. She took a long drag from the cigarette and then stamped it out in the snow.

“They were werewolves.”

Now it was Remus’ turn to freeze, “Who? Who are you talking about?”

Lee shook her head and began walking away, “I started smoking to cover up our scent when those two guys walked in. I hope it was just coincidence they were there, but…”

Remus followed a few steps behind her, and said gravely, “But it’s unlikely it’d be a coincidence.”

They walked in silence for a long while.

“How do you do it?” Remus finally asked quietly. Lee stopped walking and Remus almost collided with her. She watched her breaths freeze in the air for a moment.

“Do what?” She said. Remus began to walk again, “You own that part of you so … well. How doesn’t it affect you? How don’t you hate yourself?”

“Remus.”

He turned around. She was shivering.

Remus grabbed her arms, “Will you vomit if we apparate?”

She could barely shake her head before Remus tightened his grip on her. Feeling that churning and swimming feeling in her head, when she opened her eyes again, they were no longer standing in the street, but inside a small cottage. As soon as she felt firm on her two feet, Remus swooped under her with a ceramic mug which she took advantage of fully.

“Sorry,” she apologized, wiping the corners of her mouth with a tissue Remus pressed into her hand.

They settled in on Remus’ couch, tucked in all around with blankets up to their chins. With a flick of his wand, Remus had the fire going. Resting her head on the arm of the couch, Lee wasn’t tired, but in a philosophical mood.

“I don’t know,” she finally said. Remus looked at her quizzically before she carried on, “I don’t know how I do it. I think… After my parents took us to Canada, and everyone was so accepting of me right from the beginning, I thought, for a long while, I was normal. Neighbors would help out during full moons, bring my mum and dad meals or comfort them as they heard my screams from the room they locked me in. It was all very … routine and regimented.”

Lee sat up and looked at Remus, who was watching the logs burn, “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.”

“James and Sirius are fantastic friends, Peter would help, too, during school,” He explained, “Dumbledore was the one who vouched for me to attend school. He has a crusade to promote the acceptance of all minorities in the wizarding community. It’s quite admirable.”

“Dumbledore sent my family to Canada,” Lee said, staring into the fire. Remus’ head shot up, and so Lee continued, “I think he had to make a decision. Which werewolf child was he going to expend energy into taking care of? He came to visit me, you know. Once I started to feel better after the attack. But, by the end of it, Mum and Dad were packing our bags for Canada.”

Remus turned back to the fire, “It sounds like he made the right choice for you. You got to grow up feeling accepted.”

“But _you_ got to go live your life, go to school, gain amazing life-long friends. My parents were too afraid to send me to a faraway wizarding school in America. Ilvermorny was my dream. I fantasized about making friends, eating at feasts, getting sorted into a house. I _desperately_ wanted to be a Pukwudgie,” Lee snorted, “But instead, my best friends were my parents.”

Lee wrinkled her nose as she laughed, even though it was bitter. At least that hadn’t changed from when they were little. Although he had no idea what a Pukwudgie was, Remus felt for Lee. He mulled over a question, but before he could find the words to ask her, Lee piped up.

“I’m kidding,” she chuckled, “I swear I had friends other than Mum, Dad, and Esmeray.”

Remus’ smile widened, “Oh Esmie… How is she doing?”

“I hope she’s well,” Lee said softly. There was a hint of sadness in her voice. A longing for her sister, as if she were forgotten or gone for a very long time. She rested her head onto her arm remembered the memory of her sister.

“What do you mean _you hope_?” Remus gave a small guffaw.

“Oh, I haven’t seen her in years,” Lee said, dismissively.

Remus swallowed his following question. He knew Lee was still drunk. It was evident with how she sleepily blinked, wrapped up in her blankets. Her words were still slightly slurred. That fifth Firewhiskey was catching up with her.

“Say it,” she suddenly said.

“What?”

“ _Say it_ ,” Lee pressed, through gritted teeth.

“Lee, I really don’t know what you want me to say,” Remus straightened and put his hands out to her. He didn’t really know why, but he wanted to hold her.

Lee shot up from the couch. Remus was so taken aback from the sudden movement from her, he simply sat on the couch in shock.

“You know!” she cried, “You _know_ what I did!”

She sloppily waved a hand at Remus, almost accusingly. Or was she accusing herself of some crime Remus had not known about? Under the blankets, his fingers grazed at his wand, ready to dispatch a spell if need be.

“What did you do?” Remus said, assertively. He was calm, for the moment, but the possibility of something arising was starting to grow greater and greater. Lee was getting frustrated. She threw her hands down and sparks flew from her fingertips. They ricocheted off the floor and bounced off corners all throughout Remus’ cabin. The _whoosh_ es each spark generated paired with the ringing every time they projected off of something metal or glass, made Lee cover her ears.

Remus jumped to his feet and within seconds Lee had a wand pointed at her chest. She lowered her hands from her ears and held them up in surrender.

“What’re you? A _child_?” Remus spat, “Who has that sort of uncontrolled magic at 21 years old?”

“I –”

“Tell me _right now_ who you’re working for and what you’re doing here, Lee!” he shouted. He had to keep his wand arm steady, but his hand at his side was shaking.

“Remmy –”

“ _Now_ , Lee!”

The sparks were still whipping around the cabin. It wouldn’t be long until one of them were hit in the head and those buggers hurt.

“Put the wand down,” Lee said slowly, “I’ll extinguish the sparks, and tell you. Everything.”

Remus’ eyes flashed, “Take out your wand.”

Lee frowned, but Remus took a step closer, “ _Wand_.”

“Remus, I don’t have a wand!” Lee started to raise her voice, “Let me put out the sparks, dammit!”

“You’ll extinguish the sparks while I wait like this.”

“Okay, okay,” she conceded, “I fold.”

As the sparks whirled about, Lee caught them in her palms and smothered them. There were six in total. All the while, Remus had his wand affixed onto her.

“Can we sit?” she said when she was finished, “It’s a long story.”

Remus gave a curt nod and they lowered themselves back onto the couch.

Lee cleared her throat, “Right, so… I am here on behalf of the Canadian Ministry, I swear. And I have been developing a potion to help manage lycanthropy. That’s true too.”

She looked Remus directly in the eye, “I wouldn’t lie about that. I haven’t lied about anything. You just don’t know the whole story.”

With that, she told the story of how she killed her father.

Remus desperately tried to hide his horror. What had happened to Lee… was his worst nightmare. He looked down at his scarred hands.

“Lee, I –”

“No, don’t,” she hastily interrupted, “Don’t say anything, please.”

Tears brimmed her eyes, but she didn’t let any fall, “It was a cruel reminder of how dangerous we are.”

Not a full moon went by that Remus wasn’t afraid of waking up to a hurt Padfoot, Prongs or Wormtail. He could never forgive himself if he hurt them, let alone killed them.

“You have to know, Lee,” Remus said cautiously, “That it wasn’t your fault. It was the wolf, not you.”

“Don’t you think I’ve told myself that?” she snapped, but instantly regretted it, “I’m sorry. It’s still so fresh.”

“No kidding,” Remus agreed grimly. He didn’t want to send her over the edge, but a question kept nagging at him, “But then, why haven’t you seen Esmeray for so long? Where’s your mum?”

“They left us years ago,” Lee said, somewhat bitterly, “My mum took Esmie away, moved to Quebec. Literally the other side of the country. I think they’re living in Montreal, so Esmie could go to Ilvermorny more easily. She’s a Pukwudgie, a healer.”

Remus swallowed.

“And yes,” Lee said, quickly, “Before you ask, they did leave because of me.”

He sat back, “I really didn’t think Cybil had it in her to just leave her family like that.”

Lee snorted, “Yeah, well, Cybil could be a right tosser when she wanted to be.”

The conversation lapsed into silence. Then Remus remembered, “Hold on… You don’t have a wand?”

“Where was I supposed to get one in the middle of the Canadian wilderness?” Lee smiled, “I learned from Mary, a First Nations witch. She and a few others practice wandless magic.”

With this Remus perked up, “I have always been _absolutely fascinated_ by wandless magic. Do you use the same spells as us? Is it Latin-based? Do you verbalize at all or is it non-verbal, wandless magic?”

Lee was starting to feel her exhaustion.

Sleepily nodding, she said, “I’m happy for you, Remmy,” and yawning, “I truly am.”

“Lee…” Remus began.

“Mmm?” she responded, sleepily.

“What are you going to do this month?”

“During the full moon? I have no idea…” Lee was asleep, but as Remus watched her breath steady, his mind began to race.


	5. Chapter 5

Lee flung her notebook across the room as hard as she could. Papers went flying everything as the notebook hit the opposite wall of her apartment. _This is fucking useless_ , she thought. She was absolutely frustrated, pouring over her father’s scribbled notes on their potion was like decoding the Rosetta Stone. It had been a week since she had been introduced into the Order, they were expecting progress by now. She had said she just needed to collect a few more ingredients and – bam! – she’d be done. Yet no matter how much she read and practiced and studied, the potion went wrong every time she brewed it.

Time was passing by entirely too quickly for Lee’s taste. She had less than two weeks to sort out the ingredients for the potion she began to brew as she wanted the next full moon to be the first trial on herself. Dumbledore assigned Lily Potter to help her work out the details of the administration of the potion and the Longbottoms were assisting in gathering some of the more obscure ingredients. The powdered silver was proving extremely difficult to procure in England at this time. Alice decided it best to write to an old friend in Kazakhstan who would have connections – they were still awaiting their response; it was a truly aggravating occasion when Muggle politics began to meddle with theirs.

Sullenly, she stood to her feet to retrieve the notebook. She traced the path in the air with her hands where she wanted the notebook and papers to reorganize themselves. The papers were old and, therefore, delicate, so she made sure to do this with care. As they fluttered through the air and put themselves back into chronological order, Lee set out to brew herself some tea. With the mug cupped in her hands, she brought the water to a boil. Lee all but tossed the mug back onto the counter to prevent burning herself and chucked a tea bag into it.

She was just about to take a tentative sip when a knocking at her front door sounded through the apartment. Lee jumped up in fright, splashing her boiling-hot tea on her face and all down her front.

“ _Fuck_!” She wiped her face with her sleeve and marched to the door. In the doorway, stood Remus.

“Hey, Lee!” he said pleasantly, but noticing the stain on her sweater, frowned, “What happened to you?”

“You can’t just come unannounced!” Lee huffed but cleared the way for him to come in.

Remus dodged the floating papers as he walked in, “What happened here?”

“Frustration,” Lee grumbled, and moved back into the kitchen to rebrew some tea, this time in a pot for them to share, “My dad’s penmanship is downright horrific, and the man wasn’t a wizard so half of the time he’s not making any sense.”

“Who taught you how to brew then, if not him?” Remus sat down on the couch and leaned over the coffee table to inspect the notes that weren’t flying around the room. The pages were decorated with drawings of various herbs, plants, and insects. He could recognize the wolfsbane easily enough, but some of the others, he had to admit to himself he had never seen before. The notes were partially scribbled in English and, what he assumed to be, Turkish. It looked as though when Nassir had a stroke of brilliance, he couldn’t think cohesively in just one language. The pages looked like a classic mad scientist’s: coffee stains, smudged ink and graphite, scraps of torn-out pages. The notebook could not have been more than a couple years old, but it looked at least fifty.

Lee interrupted Remus with the teapot she placed squarely on her father’s notebook.

“Remmy,” she said, exasperatedly, “I learned everything from the community. When I say everything, I mean it. Potions, herbology, animal magic, _everything_.”

Lee raised her hand and gestured behind her to summon two mugs for the two of them, “We’re running out of time.”

Her brow furrowed as her eyes rolled over the stacks of papers on her coffee table. The blue and white mugs rattled onto the table in front of her and without thinking twice, she guided the teapot over to pour two full mugs of raspberry tea. The papers finally settled from her tantrum earlier. She looked around the cluttered apartment Albus had arranged for her. It was barebones. A couch, coffee table, small kitchen packed with only the essentials, and a bedroom and washroom down the hall. The apartment was situated above a muggle Italian restaurant, so everyday smells of cheese and tomato sauces wafted up through the floorboards. A simple silencing spell calmed down the racket that surfaced around lunch and dinnertime.

“How long have you been working today?” Remus asked. He had been watching her since her last comment. She hadn’t even realized how quiet it had become in the room.

Lee sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tightly, “I don’t know… I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been working since before daybreak.”

Now Remus sighed. He took her hands in his, “Let’s take a break. I can make you some lunch.”

“Ha!” Lee guffawed, taking her hands back, “I’ve heard about your cooking and - no thanks. Don’t worry, I like cooking. I’ve had a bunch of stuff ready for a stew for a little bit.”

Remus rolled his eyes and leaned back onto the couch, as Lee stood up and walked over to the kitchen. During the lunch session, Remus began duly filling Lee in on all the information Dumbledore failed to tell her.

“Right, so there’s this prophecy,” Lee huffed as she stirred their soup on the stove.

“Correct,” Remus said, exasperatedly. He was tired of running it through with her.

Lee tasted her culinary creation, wrinkled her nose and reached for the salt, “James and Lily’s kid is supposed to take down Voldemort?”

Remus groaned and threw himself down onto the couch, one leg over the back and arms thrown sloppily over his head, “ _No_. Not necessarily. Technically, it could be Frank and Alice’s son, Neville. Dumbledore put them all into hiding to be safe. They’re all going mad, cooped up in the house with the babies as their only company, only leaving for Order meetings.”

“Who watches the boys then?” Lee smacked her lips as she tasted her soup, “Perfect.”

“There are a couple of Squibs in alliance with the Order that step in whenever they can. The woman who takes care of Harry is a gem, Miss Fig.”

“Squib?” Lee questioned as she brought a spoon to Remus’ lips for tasting. He obliged.

While nodding in appreciation, “Yeah, you know, non-magical children of magical parents. They know everything about the wizarding world but can’t cast a spell.”

Lee shook her head, “A shame. They must be downright terrified. No way to protect themselves.”

A light tapping came from the bedroom. Remus sat upright and Lee stopped stirring, hastily switching off the gas. Remus’ wand was gripped tightly in his hand as he quietly rounded the corner to stand next to Lee. They stared intently at the small corridor behind the refrigerator, neither of them made a sound. The tapping continued, however growing more and more agitated, scratching against the window.

“It sounds like an owl,” Lee said, barely loud enough to be a whisper.

“Were you expecting one?”

Lee simply shook her head. She couldn’t possibly think of who could be contacting her without notice. All correspondences were to be made via fireplace, only those absolutely necessary were to be sent via owl, and when an owl was sent, it came with a notice from someone. Lee could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She hadn’t made her mind up about what to do, but she seemed to have taken a step forward anyway. Remus trailed behind her. As they approached the open door to the bedroom, Lee readied herself. The tapping became more and more frantic.

She stepped inside, but before she could even lift her eyes to assess the situation, a loud _THWACK_ reverberated through the room, paired with a shattering of glass. A howling gust of wind galloped through the room, throwing her windows open. A shrieking owl writhed around the floor amidst the chaos. Lee fought her way to the window while Remus scrambled at her feet trying to grab the terrified bird. She peered out the window, looking to see anyone, or anything, that wanted to get to her. She stood for a moment in the window. The wind was not letting up. It howled and moved her in every direction. When she stared down at the street, it was empty except for a few pedestrian commuters, hustling their way back to work after lunch. She watched the men below as they gripped their hats and as the tails of their trench coats flapped relentlessly behind them.

“Lee, get away from the window!” Remus yelled over the equally loud owl. Knocked out of her thoughts, Lee knelt down below her window against the wall. Remus couldn’t get a grip on the owl and the owl was too panic-stricken to fly itself back through the window it came from.

She inhaled deeply, calming herself down. Her heart slowed. She extended one arm forward and with one huge exhale, blew. The wind tunneled out from deep within her lungs, matching the wind that was already present. The two gusts met harmoniously and formed a petite cyclone. Remus stopped what he was doing and watched. The wind had stopped wailing around them and was perfectly contained. Lee guided the little tornado up, she stood with it and pushed it out the window using both of her arms, bracing herself against the floor. The wind had been handled.

Lee locked eyes with the owl. She could feel its panic, its uncertainty. It didn’t know what it was doing there or how it ended up being there. The two of them, to Remus’ understanding, simply stared at one another for a minute. He decided not to intervene. The bird slowly stopped stampeding around the room and settled itself in the corner of the room.

Finally, Lee broke the palpable silence and said, “Go on now. Get out.”

And the bird took off, quickly clawing at the top of Remus’ head before hurtling itself through the window.

“Argh!” Remus winced, rubbing his head, “Nasty bugger.”

Lee gently closed the windows.

“Bloody hell, Lee,” Remus grabbed her elbow, “Your feet!”

Lee looked down. She had been barefoot in the apartment before the entire ordeal and because of the bird, there was broken glass all over the floor and now in her feet.

“And, for the love of Merlin, please get away from the window,” Remus huffed and guided her carefully towards a sheltered corner in the bedroom. He put Lee against the wall and without moving his body, turned his head over his shoulder to look around. The owl hadn’t dropped any sort of parchment onto the floor.

“Remmy,” Lee said softly, “I’m starting to feel it in my feet.”

“Oh, right, yes,” Remus spluttered, taking a step back. Lee moved to take a step but quickly keeled over. Remus lurched forward and caught her before she jammed more glass into her hands.

“Do you mind if I…?” he sheepishly asked.

Lee snorted, “Please, at this point, be my guest.”

Remus gathered Lee up in his arms and carried her over to the kitchen counter, his shoes crunching atop the residual glass from the freak owl ambush.


	6. Chapter 6

Her head was spinning.

One moment she was in Knockturn Alley and now… now she had miscalculated. The cold night air cut into her through her deep breaths. Her throat was so dry it burned with each inhale and no matter how hard she tried to breathe properly, her lungs fought her, preventing any reasonable amount of air inside. Still and all, she was warm. Her left hand was gripping a small paper parcel. All Lee could think of was what was in that package. It must be all there.

She shook her head. A small shake ‘no.’ ‘No, you have new priorities right now.’

She blinked and brought her right hand to her eyes, covering them to steady her swaying, but it was wet. Warm. Lee quickly took her hand off her face, but it was too dark to inspect what she had on her.

‘Find Sirius.’

He was meant to be here tonight, not at his shoddy place above the muggle bar. He was meant to be _here_ , getting the new full-moon shelter ready. In essence, Lee’s prison. Her heart began to race. The shelter was extremely well-hidden, that was its function: to be unseen, unheard, and untraceable. It was meant to keep everything in, to suffocate the yells, and to guarantee the menace be contained. Similar to the Shrieking Shack, it wasn’t meant to look like anything special. Lee’s Shack was deliberately placed far from any London suburb or village, wizarding and Muggle alike. Unlike its shrieking cousin, they hadn’t had the chance to build, concoct and spread rumors of the perils inside should some probing noses come traipsing in.

No matter how hard she strained, she wasn’t able to hear any movement. Her racing heart was making her aware of the aches in the corners of her body.

Her jaw from his grip.

Her forehead from the cobblestone street.

Her shoulder from the brick wall.

She bit her lip, but the metallic taste of blood made her cringe. It made her unspeakably angry. Her rage threw her up against the nearest tree. She could feel the bark scratching her exposed skin. She couldn’t remember why she wasn’t wearing her cloak or when it came off.

“Okay, my dear,” she mumbled to herself, clasping her hands together as she turned to face the tree. Lee focused all of her energy on the tree and directed her voice to it, “Alright, I know I don’t know you that well, but I really need your help.”

Placing her free hand on its trunk, she waited. She watched. It was much too dark for her to see even two feet in front of her face or past the tree trunk, but she forced herself to be patient. Mary was always dissatisfied with her outrageous need to keep moving.

The forest is an open book, she would say, but you must be the willing student to read it.

However, reading the forest was not like any book and Lee considered herself illiterate. Lee huffed impatiently, but just then a blue wisp puffed up from the corner of her eye. As fast as she had seen it was as fast as it disappeared.

“ _No_ ,” she muttered, barely audible. ‘ _Come back, come back, come back,’_ she repeated in her head. Her eyes scanned the area where the wisp had last developed. She anxiously bit her lip, but this time was unable to taste the blood.

‘ _Come back,’_ she was pleading now, the palm of her hand was embedding itself into the tree.

And then, miraculously… it came back. The blue wisp erupted a few feet off to Lee’s side. It made no noise, but the smoky curls it was comprised of moved with such ferocity, they seemed to be wanting to roar. Lee’s face cracked into a wide, almost giddish, smile. Her shoulders relaxed and she placed her forehead against the tree. Closing her eyes for a moment, she whispered, “ _Thank you_.”

Lee didn’t feel the need to be cautious. She took a step forward towards the blue smoke. It was unphased. Lee didn’t want to say anything; she wasn’t sure there was a need. She continued to walk towards it, but it showed no reaction, no acknowledgment that she was there. She could have stomped on it by the time it glided away from her. Her eyes tracked the odd creature as it floated behind a tree. It illuminated the forest scene around it in an eerily pale blue haze. Lee dutifully followed the creature. She observed as the wild thing handled a human-sized, iron lantern with ease while it couldn’t have been more than two feet tall.

She doesn’t know how long she followed the being. They moved slow; Lee kept her pace slow and careful, so as not to overpower and potentially distress her guide. She was able to make out its shape after so intently observing its movements; two long wisps of smoke tugged the candle-lit lantern alongside its long, slender body that tapered off at where the legs and feet should have been and its head was a conglomeration of shining blue trails of aura-like energy. Lee felt at home for the first time in a long while being escorted through the woods by this creature. She was beginning to grow fond of the small spirit, and when it vanished from sight before her, she felt sad.

Yet, before her was still nothing. _Nothing_. Frustration writhed in her stomach. She felt like she was going to puke. Tears sprung to her eyes. _Nothing_. Where was she? Where was the shelter? Where was Sirius? _Nowhere_. She knew she shouldn’t scream, but at that point, she couldn’t help it. What resulted was a shout so painful for her, obliterating her voice, that she fell to her knees.

As she did this, a red flash flared out before her, clipping her left shoulder. The package flew from her fingertips, but Lee couldn’t retrieve it. She couldn’t move and felt an overwhelming urge to sleep.

Faintly above her, she heard rustling and a small, “Lee?”

“ _Rennervate_ ,” came next and suddenly she was being hoisted up to sit. Her head lolled back before she was able to hold it up herself.

She must have been quite the sight to see because the next words out of the Stuppefier’s mouth was, “Bloody hell, Lee, what happened to you?”

“Sirius?” Lee sputtered, “Oh thank God, thank God that little bloke didn’t take me somewhere to die!”

Sirius stared at her. He couldn’t say anything in response. Her face was bloodied, and he could feel blood oozing from somewhere on her shoulder. Before he could think of anything to say, she ripped herself from his grip. There was no spell cast, or so Sirius thought, but a bright yellow light gleamed from beneath a small patch of dead, withered leaves to their side. Lee lurched as fast as she could towards it and clutched the object to her chest. The package. Still intact.

“Lee!” Sirius called out, “Lee, come on, you’re scaring me. Let’s go inside.”

Lee didn’t say anything but complied. She let Sirius lead her towards the shelter. He wasn’t strong in charms, but Sirius had been out all night in the woods practicing the defense system on Lee’s Shrieking Shack. He was only putting up the second wall of visual defenses when the lightless forest illuminated with a chilling blue behind him. Since he hadn’t progressed too deeply with the defenses, it would be a quick dismantling.

Sirius watched Lee out of the corner of his eye as he raised his arms to begin the task. She was badly beaten up, more than he thought before, and he knew she hadn’t realized it yet. Everything she was wearing was stained with blood. She was beaten up and shaken up. Something had got to her. Or someone. The little bloke? And whatever was in that parcel seemed dangerously important. Moony had mentioned a strange moment with her from the night they went out for drinks.

He sighed and shook his head. The dismantlement was done. He gently touched Lee’s elbow to guide her through the door. She walked forward as if she was devoid of life like she had seen a ghost. Maybe she _had_ seen a ghost. Sirius followed her in.

The shelter was barebones. It looked like it had been empty for not only years but decades. Sirius and the Prewett brothers had been there intermittently throughout the week to clean it up and scope it out for any wandering muggles. Their assessment came out clean – this park ranger house was, in fact, abandoned. The house was left with some furnishings, furniture that no one claimed. Lee slowly installed herself at the kitchen table.

“Fancy a cuppa?” Sirius broke the silence. He tried to sound as light-hearted as possible, but he was on edge.

“Sure,” Lee watched him as he crossed the house into the kitchen. Sirius grabbed an old, tin kettle to boil some water in. He had no idea how to use the stove, nor did he think anything would function in this house without causing it to explode, so he created a small flame with his wand.

When he returned with the mugs in hand, Lee was inspecting her stomach.

“Bloody hell…” he managed to get out before tossing the mugs onto the table.

“You were splinched, Lee! Why didn’t you say anything?” He was raising his voice although he didn’t mean to, “Merlin, Lee, why did you come here? We – I don’t have anything to treat that with!”

“I – I didn’t know where else to go,” Lee was starting to feel the panic rise in her chest. A chunk out of her side was missing, “I knew you were here. You were supposed to be here with the twins. And I couldn’t go to the Potters or the Longbottoms, I – I don’t know many other places around here.”

Sirius was at a loss. He was no Healer.

“You should have at least _thought_ of going to _Moony’s_ ,” he hissed, running his hands through his hair. He wasn’t meant to be the one thinking of plans or dealing with crises. He was an Auror. He thought in the middle of it all, with the adrenaline pumping through him, fueling his ideas.

“I couldn’t!” Lee spat. She didn’t know where her strength was coming from at this point, with the amount of blood and body parts she’d lost.

“Lee, you need to _think_ ,” Sirius pushed angrily, “What goes on a splinch wound?”

He grabbed her shoulders to get her to focus, but she cried out in pain instead.

“What _happened_?” Sirius said as he stared at the blood all over his hands.

“I got the moonseed,” was all Lee could say.

“And the seeds put up that much of a fight?”

She shut her eyes tight to stop her pounding headache, but Sirius cut off her next thought, “I’m sending Dumbledore a Patronus.”

“Do _not_ ,” Lee said sharply.

“Those wounds need to be treated!” Sirius yelled, pulling up Lee’s shirt aggressively to look at the mess again, “You’re going to be maimed for life!”

“I already am!” she bellowed.

They stared at each other for a moment. Each uncertain of what the other would do.

“You’re in no state to Apparate again. And you can’t die, if this potion has any chance,” Sirius said softly, “If we have any chance in this war.”

Lee leaned back in the chair, her gaze not leaving Sirius.

“Dittany,” she responded, “Do you have dittany here? It goes on Apparation injuries.”

Sirius bolted up to his feet, “Merlin, you are so lucky the Prewetts have a brain between ‘em and stocked the back room full of medicines.”

He came rushing back into the room, pulling all sorts of jars, test tubes, flasks, and the such full of roots, herbs and pre-mixed potions.

“Thank you to the holy hippogriffs!” Sirius exclaimed as he smeared the dittany paste onto Lee’s splinch. Sirius worked ferociously on covering every inch of the wound, Lee instructed him faintly the entire way. In normal circumstances, Sirius would be doing everything in his might to charm his way to Lee’s shirt off of her.

As Sirius finished patching her up, Lee lazily traced her fingers around the rim of the mugs full of tea to heat them up again.

“Drink your tea,” Lee instructed, “I’ll fill you in.”

Sirius was not one for taking instructions, but Lee’s tone was grave. He leaned onto the table, cupping his mug of tea with both hands.

\---

Mundungus Fletcher had tipped her off of a dealer who had moonseeds. The plant was native to North America, not found in the U.K. at all. It was highly poisonous and in this part of the world, only known as a last resort to take someone out. It was not sold casually in shops, even in Knockturn Alley. Nevertheless, Fletcher found a shop owner who kept some stashed.

_Just in case,_ Fletcher sniggered.

Lee wove her way through Knockturn Alley. Dusk had already settled, casting an unsettling gloom over the alleyway. A few wizards and witches were gathered in small clumps, obstructing the entire walkway. As Lee passed, all conversation halted, and they stared until she was out of earshot again. She pulled her hood further over her face; it was identifiable in a place she most certainly did not want to be identified in.

The collection was easy. She paid the witch behind the counter, who tried to raise the price suddenly, yet not successfully. Exiting back out onto the street, the wind was roaring. Knockturn Alley was only lit by the third-quarter moon. Lee was running out of time.

Rounding the corner, back onto the main street, firmly gripping the packet of moonseeds, deep in her cloak pocket. There was no one out. Practically no one was leaving their homes at night anymore, ever since the situation worsened, especially in its natural hub of London. Lee walked alone in the street. Her boots clicked against the stone rhythmically as she walked.

Yet, at every intersection she passed, there were a few bodies standing, blocking the pathways. She was beginning to feel uneasy, readying herself. Habitually, she lit a cigarette, clouding her scent, but she soon realized that was her mistake.

“Oi, love!”

Her insides froze. She took a long drag from the cigarette but kept walking. The voice from behind her was not alone. There was some jeering from, presumably, the man’s mates.

“Oi, love!” This one was more forceful, “Can you take that fag outta here?”

This made Lee stop. She flicked the cigarette into the street. Her own sense of smell became unclouded from tobacco smoke again and was bombarded by the distinct, odorous scent of werewolf. Her brain couldn’t process that she was face-to-face with a gang of three male wolves fast enough.

They lurched forward, Lee dove but one managed to wrap his claws around her cloak, ripping it off of her, sending her tumbling to the ground. Her forehead smacked against the stone. Head reeling, another tossed her against a nearby building, pressing his forearm against her throat.

Lee stared at them in horror. The three wolves were constantly in a half-transformed state: powerful forward-facing canine teeth, patchily covered in thick blotches of dark fur, flashing amber eyes, and claws replaced their fingernails on elongated fingers.

“Hey, gorgeous,” the ringleader sneered, millimeters away from her face, pressing closer, “Let’s see those pretty teeth.”

He fiercely grabbed Lee’s jaw, forcing her mouth open. She was choking. He had lifted her off the ground and against the building. She was furiously kicking at him and grabbing at his arm, in an attempt to let herself free. He leaned in and savored her smell, tightening his grip on her jaw.

“Let’s see ‘em, doll,” he was panting now, demanding it from her. As his grip tightened, she lost control of herself. Mentally, she was still there, but it was as if this werewolf was forcing her transformation – without the full moon. She was terrified, but she couldn’t even scream. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Her teeth began shifting, growing. Pain pounded in her ears, muffling the howling from the wolves.

However, physically looking like a wolf meant physically feeling like a wolf. The strength that had been lying dormant in her muscles was stirred to the forefront. She dug her claws deep into her attacker’s arms, and while he yelped like a hurt pup, she ripped herself away from him and the building wall. Panickily, and admittingly without thought, she apparated to the first safe place she could think of: the new shelter, where she wouldn’t be alone.

\---

Sirius stared stupefied at the floor, mouth slightly ajar. His tea had gone cold again.

“Do you see now why couldn’t go to Remmy?” she asked. By now, her head was leaning against the wall of the house, weakly.

“You would have led them right to him,” Sirius agreed gloomily. He rose to his feet and began pacing.

A slurry of curses was tumbling out of his mouth as he angrily ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all.

“ _Dammit!_ ” He roared and slammed his fist into the wall, which resulted in a “ _Fuck!_ ” that echoed through the room.

Lee sighed, “I don’t think I should be hopping around too much. They know my scent well now. Beneficially, that means I know theirs as well, but at least for tonight, it’s better to stay in one place.”

Sirius’ face darkened into a deep frown, “You have to tell the Order. You have to tell Dumbledore.”

Sighing became an automatic response for Lee now.

“I know,” she rubbed her eyes, and she repeated, “I know.”

“Well go on,” Sirius was growing impatient, “Send a Patronus. Then we can figure out how to survive a night in this uninhabitable cabin.”

Lee was too weak to feel embarrassed, “I don’t know how,” she said blatantly.

Sirius snapped to attention and he guffawed, “I’m sorry – _what?_ ”

“Yeah in all my time in the Canadian woods, raised by my muggle father, I had great opportunity to learn the Patronus charm. Guess I was just lazy.”

“Right,” Sirius grumbled, “Right, right, I get it.”

He summoned his dog and as he was whispering in its ear the urgent message to Dumbledore, Lee finally drifted off into sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The dittany paste had dried on his hands. Sirius stood in the middle of the living room, feeling utterly defeated. Nothing was going right for them. This past year, James and Lily went into hiding and countless Order members have died. He felt hopeless. This werewolf cure was supposed to be it, the thing that would make their lives in the Order easier. It would finally make Moony’s life easier.

At Hogwarts, he was never the responsible one. Moony was always cleaning up after him and Prongs. Poor Wormtail had always been strung along. Now suddenly, a backwoods Canadian witch who apparently knows Moony from a past life comes traipsing into England, on Dumbledore’s orders, to help cure the wolf in them.

Sirius hadn’t gotten nearly as much information as he wanted from her the night they went out. Whatever Remus learned about her afterward, he wasn’t disclosing to anyone.

Just trust her, he urged, but James and Sirius were uneasy. If Dumbledore trusted her, surely, she was safe.

Lee had passed out at the table. Sirius watched her as her chest rose and fell steadily. He knew she was right – she couldn’t have gone to Moony’s. She knew he’d be here; she did the only thing she could in the thick of it. The girl was no auror and to go in the middle of the night alone to pick up a secret potion ingredient? In Knockturn Alley? It was really naïve. She was still naïve.

He had nowhere to put her. She would wake up hurting all over, crumpled up against the wall like that. He kicked at nothing - since when had he become a babysitter?

Sirius sat down on the floor against the opposite wall from Lee. This was the worst part of the job, any job, the waiting. He needed Dumbledore to respond, but he must have dozed off because he was jumped up with a start at the sound of a fierce knocking. The sound was loud enough to frighten Lee awake; she gasped and sat up in her chair. The two locked eyes with each other, neither of them moved. Lee’s eyes were wide with horror and Sirius slowly shook his head. He wasn’t quite sure what he was responding to.

There was a pause, but the knocking resumed.

“Padfoot!” a voice whispered insistently, “Padfoot, it’s Moony. I was sent here.”

Sirius stood slowly, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, inching towards the door.

“Now, now Moony,” he chuckled, though he was unsure if it covered up his worry or emphasized it, “We know it can’t be that easy.”

Sirius readied his wand, “The Great Food Fight of ‘77 – how were pumpkin pasties ruined for you forever?”

There was a small laugh from the other side of the door, “Now that would have to be when I saw Lyra Cadence eat one out of Marchbank’s hair in the middle of the festivities.”

“Ruined your eye for her no?” Sirius teased.

“Shut up,” presumed-Remus snorted, “What did you do to Wormtail during the fight that he didn’t speak to you until graduation for?”

Sirius leaned up against this door and rolled his eyes, “For the last time, I didn’t do it. It was most definitely Prongs who poured the pea soup down his shirt!”

Both were satisfied with the other’s answers. Sirius flung open the door, grabbed Remus by the cloak and yanked him inside. Sirius locked the door swiftly behind him. That would activate the shields.

“What are you doing here?” Lee hissed from her place at the table.

“What are you doing here, Moony?” Sirius repeated, “I sent a Patronus to Dumbledore, how did you get ahold of it?”

Remus shook his head, “He sent me over, said Lee needed help.”

He looked at her expectantly. The cabin was dark. A single, nearly melted candle kept the room ablaze.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lee groaned, “This is possibly the worst place for you to be.”

Remus took a step closer to Lee, “What are you talking about? What happened?”

That was when he saw the state of Lee, but before he could say anything, she was on her feet. Sirius’ immediate response was to step forward to steady her, but he restrained himself. There was a lump in his throat. Something was wrong. The atmosphere in the room had shifted with Lee. Her emotions were constantly in flux. One moment she was calm and the next in an unrelenting rage.

Lee and Remus were almost touching noses. Remus could also feel the tension in the room and, like Sirius, was unsure as to why it was suddenly so uneasy. Neither man moved. They knew they could have, but something about Lee was consuming them.

“Use it,” Lee said with a soft intensity; her eyes flicked up to meet Remus’, “You have to learn how to use it, Remmy.”

Remus shook his head. He couldn’t find the words he was searching for. He was taken aback by how rough Lee looked. There was blood all over her face and in her hair; he couldn’t pinpoint where the bleeding had started. Her eyes were so sullen and sunken in, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

“Use it, Remmy,” she was beginning to raise her voice, losing patience. Sirius’ fingers coiled around his wand, but he remained in the shadows of their conversation.

“Lee, I – use what?” Remus said incredulously.

His next breath was cut off. Lee grabbed his face, gripping his mouth. Remus heard Sirius shout ‘Stupefy!’ but Lee easily deflected it, knocking Sirius back against the staircase railing. Remus had never felt this out of control before.

Lee pulled his face to hers and pressed her forehead against her own. Her eyes were closed. Remus’ heart was beating in his throat. He wasn’t sure what came over him in that moment, but he was hit full force. He choked and gasped for air like a fish out of water. Lee released and his back slammed onto the ground at her feet.

She opened her eyes and for a brief moment, Remus could have sworn, those eyes flashed amber. Sirius was on his feet now, moving to help Remus, but Remus put his arm out to stop him. Sirius just watched, stupefied.

Remus could smell everything. He could smell the damp, aged wood the house was made up of, the mildew in the corners, the metallic tang of Lee’s blood, and her scent… tainted by the blood, but still overwhelming. She smelt like raspberry pastry and the forest early in the morning and coffee brewing. He couldn’t shake it.

“Come on, Remus, use it properly!” Lee urged.

He concentrated. And what she had been pushing him towards was abruptly right in front of him. It was a muskiness so foul and rotten – the smell of decaying wood and mushrooms, of a decaying deer strewn across the forest floor.

“Merlin… no,” Remus whispered. He felt the color drain from his face. Remus could feel his insides crumbling in on themselves.

“What?!” Sirius insisted, “What is going on between you two?”

“Shut up!” Remus seethed. Sirius stopped in his tracks.

“We don’t have time to leave. We can’t apparate in and out of the cabin. It’s far too charmed,” Lee said, almost amused, and toothily grinned, “And I can’t afford another splinching.”

Remus dragged a hand down his face, “How long do we have?”

Lee sighed, “Remmy, can’t you tell?”

She looked directly at Sirius, “They’re outside the charm wall.”

Sirius swallowed, “Who? What do you know?”

“Werewolves. Greyback’s pack.”

Somehow, Remus paled even further. He hadn’t stood up.

“I can’t do this,” He said, watching his hands shaking.

“Moony, you don’t have to,” Sirius said quickly.

“No,” Lee said at the same time, “No, you don’t get to be that way!”

Sirius lost his patience, “What do you have to say about it? What do you know? You’ve been gone for what – ten years? More?”

He advanced with every question he threw at her. Even when he was toe-to-toe with her, he showed no signs of stopping.

“You can’t just swoop into his life again and meddle with things like this! It’s taken years for Moony to get to where he is now. This is the best we’ve all ever seen him! You do not get to insistently take that away. You do not!” Sirius was yelling now. He shoved Lee at the end of his spiel, and she staggered backward.

No one moved for a moment. All the focus was on Lee.

She looked at Remus. Tears rimmed her eyes and through gritted teeth, she said, “This is my battle as well. You aren’t the only one affected here. What he took away from you was the same thing he took away from me.”

Taking a shaky breath in and straightening herself, “So are you going to be selfish or are you going to help us get out of here?”

Sirius and Remus were, once again, stunned into silence.

“Selfish?” Sirius finally said, his eyes narrowed, “Selfish? You think he’s being selfish?”

“She’s right,” Remus said, standing up, but looking pointedly at Lee, “But you - you're hurt. Pretty badly it seems. That won’t get the best of you?”

The corner of her mouth twitched up, “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.”

She led the way to the door. Remus trailed behind her and Sirius followed, albeit begrudgingly.

With one hand tightly gripping the doorknob, she said, “Listen, Remmy, whatever you do, don’t let them get their hands on you. What I did before was only a mild dose of that.”

Without waiting for a go-ahead, Lee pulled the door open.

It was instantaneous. As soon as they stepped out into the cold night, the three wolves went berserk. They were hooting, snarling, growling. They pounded on the invisible wall between them. As their fists and forearms collided with the charm wall, it shuddered, threatening to collapse at any moment. Out of the same three wolves from before, the ringleader slammed both of his arms against the wall and glowered at Lee.

“Hello, love, I see you’ve got backups now,” he was practically panting, jutting his chin out towards Remus, “But who’s this little weasel? Lead us right to you.”

His righthand man laughed. It was a sickening noise, almost a dog’s whine.

“Collin, don’t give the pup all the credit,” he chuckled, bringing into view a ripped up black cloak. He smiled, “Look familiar?”

Remus had a lump in his throat. That smelled like Lee. Sirius was raging inside. He was itching to hit to something.

Lee gritted her teeth, “Take down the wall.”

The next moment happened intensely quickly. The boys were throwing curses and jinxes left and right. Lee was trying to hold her ground, using her surroundings as best as she could see them. These werewolves were extremely physical fighters. There was no telling if they had magic.

Sidestepping tree root after tree root, Lee wove her way through the forest. Collin was not fair behind. In an ill-fated step, her foot caught the top of a rock and she went toppling forward. Within seconds, he was on top of her. Seizing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her head up. His knee dug into her back as he leaned down to her ear.

“Give me one reason, I shouldn’t drag my claw across your throat right now,” he snarled.

Lee gulped and, although her voice trained said, “Because you want to control it, too.”

She felt his entire body stiffen. She pressed on, “You want to control your wolf under the moon, too.”

She managed to turn to look at him. In the dark, she couldn’t make out his features, but his eyes were flashing, his claws pierced into her scalp and his teeth glinted. She knew he was in that horrific half-transformed state. The two just looked at each other. Their panting was the only thing to be heard.

“STUPEFY!” echoed in the forest. A beam of red shot out and slammed squarely into the wolf’s head. He slumped straightaway and crashed onto Lee, his forehead coming into contact full force with her nose. Some shuffling and a few moments later, his body was heaved off of her.

“Dammit, that bugger is heavier than he looks,” Sirius grunted, as he dragged the wolf across the forest floor. It was much too dark to see. Sirius was only identifiable by the glow from the tip of his wand. Remus came running up behind him, into the veil of light.

“Let’s get out of here?” Remus put a hand on Sirius' shoulder, the two men looked at own another, and decidedly said, “Peter’s.”

Lee extended out a hand to Remus to be helped up. Remus couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Without missing a beat, Sirius stepped in front of Remus, shielding him with his body and in Remus’ stead, he lifted Lee to her feet by her elbow. Sirius held tightly onto Lee’s uninjured shoulder, looking expectantly at Remus. Lee offered her hand to him.

Remus took her wrist.


	8. Chapter 8

The boys passed around mugs of tea and breakfast toast about the kitchen table, silently. Peter chewed slowly and peered at his friends. He had never seen them so defeated. Padfoot was usually chatting up a storm – Peter was constantly telling him to be quiet so as not to wake his mother. Now, he had his hair tied back in a high bun; a look never before seen in the public. Moony looked exhausted, even more than after the full moon. He leaned back in Peter’s mum’s floral cushioned chair and stared absentmindedly at the ceiling. The girl they brought with them was knocked out cold on the couch.

His friends seemed much more distant now. Moony was usually so calm, so grounded, and if anything, now he was angry. It was a sort of anger that seemed to be brewing for a long time, probably in the pit of his stomach, Peter concluded. From what he could tell, Moony wasn’t injured, but maybe he was mad because Sirius was?

They had stumbled in late last night on his front stoop. The girl was slumped against Padfoot’s shoulder, already unconscious. Padfoot was furious as Moony fixed up the girl on the couch. She had a broken nose, an old splinch wound, and countless deep cuts, he explained to Peter. Padfoot watched from a corner until Peter made a somewhat passive-aggressive comment that Padfoot should really be mindful and not bleed all over his mother’s carpet as it ‘would be a nightmare to clean out.’

There was a massive gash down his thigh. It was something Peter had never seen before; it almost made him retch. There were four long gashes, completely open and incredibly deep spanning from his hip to his knee. Moony was livid, shoving Padfoot into a chair and forcing him to take his trousers off to get a better look at the injury.

Trying to get into my pants, Moony? Sirius teased, no need to be shy about it, ol’ friend.

Peter gulped down the last of his tea, and warily began conversation.

“So, erm… how’s the girl? Is she going to be alright?”

Moony dejectedly straightened and sighed, “Yeah… Yes, Peter. She should be.”

He sighed and slowly lowered his head into his folded arms on the table. Peter waited for someone else to further the discussion. After another moment of silence, he stuck his bottom lip out and continued.

“Moony, you erm – you came out unscratched!” he tried to sound light-hearted, “You must be an even better dueler than I thought.”

Padfoot let go of a small snort, “Ha! Moony just took on the underdog. I was fighting the big guns.”

Peter very nearly laughed, but Moony looked up and glared at Padfoot with such anger, he swallowed it.

“How can you joke?” Moony spat then lowered his voice, but not his intensity, “We have no idea how that will affect you yet.”

Padfoot reached for Moony’s hand across the table and rested it on top.

“Nothing to worry about. We’ve dealt with everything thrown at us before,” Padfoot said earnestly, “Eh, Wormy?”

Sirius met Peter’s gaze expectantly. Peter always hated the bastardization of his nickname. He grumbled his agreement, but instead of that making Moony feel better, Moony scoffed and ripped his hand away from Padfoot. He moved into the drawing-room, running in fingers through his hair in a huff. Peter looked at Padfoot, stunned, but Sirius didn’t give him the time of day and went after Remus. Sullenly, Peter tossed his empty mug into the sink, and grumpily leaned against the counter.

The walk into the drawing-room was not the least bit graceful on Sirius’ part. His leg hurt extraordinarily, making him hobble along after Remus. Before Remus could get too far, Sirius grabbed his hand and pulled him to face him.

“What,” Remus seethed. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He was furious and when he looked at Sirius, tears rimmed his eyes.

“Whoa, whoa,” Sirius said, gently, “It’s okay. This isn’t the end of the world.”

Remus took a deep breath in, “I just can’t – I won’t have one of my best friend’s turned into…” Remus swallowed his words, “because of me.”

Sirius was taken aback. He put his hand firmly on the back of Remus’ neck and brought his forehead to his own. Remus didn’t look at him but stared intently at Sirius’ slippered feet.

“Hey, now,” Sirius urged, “This was not your fault. It was not my fault. It wasn’t Lee’s fault.”

He concluded rather resentfully, but he knew it was what Remus needed to hear.

“We each took on a wolf and turns out my guy was just a bit handsy,” Sirius chuckled. He was putting all his effort into sounding cheery.

“Don’t you dare get hurt like that again,” Remus said shakily.

Sirius took Remus’ face in both of his hands. His thumbs rested along some of the scars on his face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Moons.”

Remus looked at Sirius’ face, so close to his. When his inky hair was sloppily tied back like it was, you could see his chiseled features. He had a little bit of overgrown stubble and the bags under his eyes were dark, but his grey eyes were never dull. They always twinkled with mischief. The two were very close, but neither pulled away.

Very slowly, only moving millimeters closer, they kissed. Sirius tangled his fingers in Remus’ hair as they melted into it. Remus begged for entrance into Sirius’ mouth. He obliged, smiling into it. Their tongues entwined. It was only when Sirius shifted his weight did Remus become a little flustered. He put a hand on Sirius’ chest and gently shook his head. Remus bit his bottom lip, smiling. Reluctantly conceding to the pause in snogging, Sirius smiled widely.

“Well, how about that?” He said airily, admittingly scatterbrained at the moment.

“I…” Remus began, but couldn’t find the words to continue.

Sirius was also at a loss for words, completely out of character. He leaned back against the wall, tilting his head back to rest, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from Remus.

Remus ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling breathily.

“Erm – right, uh…” His tongue fumbled in his mouth, although it had clearly known what it was doing just moments ago, “Maybe er – let’s just get down to business?”

Sirius couldn’t hide his disappointment but moved to the upholstered wing-backed chair regardless. Remus took his place against the wall, cozily nestled in between the corner and Peter’s mum’s towering china cabinet.

“Well,” he began, “They know about Lee.”

Sirius snorted, “Our big advantage was that she was a secret and now –”

“Yeah,” Remus cut him off tersely, “The big question is how.”

Sirius stared at Remus. His brows were knitted together in concern. He was still a touch flushed from before, but Sirius could tell his mind was frenzied.

“What are you thinking?” Sirius guided.

“What if…” Remus sighed, collecting himself, “What if Lee…”

Sirius sat up straighter. Remus and he made eye contact.

“When would I have had the opportunity?” a voice asked from behind them both. Sirius nearly skyrocketed out of his chair.

“Merlin!” he shouted. Peter came galloping into the room to tell them to hush.

Lee was sitting up on the couch. The tops of her cheeks were tender and undoubtedly bruised. The rest of her body relentlessly throbbed so all the pain melded into one.

“If I told them, Remus,” she continued, “they wouldn’t have come after me like that.”

Remus crossed his arms and mumbled his agreement. Peter’s eyes darted between everyone. When the girl had awoken, there was an unwavering tension that radiated through the room.

When no one else said anything, Lee carried on, “Maybe the real question should be: why did Remus come to the cabin instead of Dumbledore’s response?”

Remus’ eyes finally flicked up to meet Lee’s.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked, “That Dumbledore ratted us out to Greyback?”

“No,” Lee said, quickly, “What I’m suggesting is that… Dumbledore sent you to the cabin for the reason. To gain intelligence.

The scent on my cloak was way too faint to be able to track me from as far away as Knockturn Alley to the cabin. But the scent of an unknown wolf… that’s strong. Especially to pack wolves. And you’re telling me that Greyback doesn’t want us in his pack? We’re rightfully his.”

Something inside Remus broke at her conclusion. His fingers traced the scars on his face and neck. Unconsciously, Lee was doing the same to the ones on his arms.

“If Greyback wanted Moony in his pack, why didn’t he just collect him earlier?” Peter questioned, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh Merlin,” it had dawned on Remus, “he’s learned.” He put his face in his hands.

“Learned…?” Peter repeated.

“To control the pack without the moon,” Lee finished, “Remus… you saw what state those wolves were in. If I were one of their pack, I’d be like that.”

“Listen, we need to call in Dumbledore for real now,” Sirius interjected, “Call a meeting with the Order. This has got to be meeting-worthy.”

Remus sighed, “I’ll send the Patronus. Then we should get going. I’m sure Mrs. Pettigrew is tired of our jabbering.”

He moved into the kitchen where there was a backdoor to cast out of, adding a quick thanks to Peter for housing them for the night, but Peter followed, not wanting to be caught in between Sirius and the girl.

Sirius shifted in his seat to face Lee. She had gotten up and moved to the front door. Sirius joined her at the door as she was lacing up her sneakers.

“Listen,” he said stonily, with such a sharp tone it practically forced Lee to look up at him from tying her shoes, “me and you? We’re not alright. I can’t tell if there’s something funny with you”

Lee stood upright. Sirius cracked on, “But you’re the only one who understands him. We think we do, Prongs, Wormy, and I – but we don’t. We can’t. I can keep you around for that, but if I get even a little more suspicious of you –”

“I’ll consider myself warned,” Lee interrupted.

Sirius nodded curtly. A stiff moment passed in between them before Sirius mustered up the pride to ask his next question.

“Will it,” he began, “you know, affect me?”

Lee glanced down at his bandaged-up leg.

She gave him a reassuring smile, “No… no, you’ll be fine. It takes a bite under a full moon to force a full transformation. Even if you had a bite from him last night, you wouldn’t turn.”

Sirius was visibly relieved. The tension in his body recognizably released.

“If anything, you’ll just be a bit moodier at that time of the month,” Lee winked before opening the door to leave. Sirius couldn’t help but smirk.

“Hey, Lee!” he called to her retreating back. Lee turned. He tossed to her a small wrapped package. Moonseed. Her jaw dropped open.

“You’ll keep that little… exchange between Moons and I under wraps, right?”

Lee gave a wide smile, “I’m glad you’ve made him happy. Happy is a good look on him.”

Sirius’ face grew a little warm. Lee apparated back to her London flat.

Lee didn’t know what she expected when she arrived at her front door. She took down the protection charms Dumbledore had her practice one by one, starting with the outermost wall. They didn’t seem to be tampered with. Her personal protective charms were still intact at the foot of the door. She stooped down, although it made her wince, and grazed the dried rowan branch and berries she had propped against her door frame. As she entered, her stomach dropped.

The flat was torn apart. Floorboards tossed to the side. The table flipped and splintered. Cushions shredded. Lee walked in; her gaze retracing the path the intruders took. Surprising herself, she was not panicked. Perhaps she was too exhausted to bear the thought of panicking at the moment or maybe, panicking bored her now. No surge of adrenaline could get her limbs moving faster than a crawl. Even amongst the disarray, Lee thought clear thoughts and jumped to no conclusions.

She steadily walked into the washroom. The sink had been ripped from the wall. A puddle of water crept passed the entryway to the kitchen. Mirror shattered. Tiles punched out sequentially. The canvas on her sneakers had soaked through. Her socks were wet, but Lee made no effort to lift her feet as she walked. The points of her feet cut a pathway through the water to her final destination.

Finally, her fingertips reached the tiles she was looking for. She spread her left hand over the intended tiling. One at a time, starting with her pinkie, the tiles pressed into the wall under the pressure of her hand. At her thumb, the tiles under her palm gave way. A path was cleared into the walls of the flat. Lee reached in, shoulder deep.

When her hand grabbed ahold of the small cardboard box, she felt as Sirius did when he confirmed he wasn’t a werewolf. The tension in her shoulders released and she pressed her forehead against the cool tiles. She made sure all her tools and ingredients were secured, tossing the expertly retrieved moonseed into the mix.

The question How? began to circulate her mind. It lapped the circumference of her brain over and over. It made her dizzy. Her feet led her into the bedroom.

“Hey, Jubilee.”

The voice from behind her sent a chill down her spine. When she turned around, her arm windmilled up over her head, a jet of puddle water following closely behind. A snap of her wrist and the water torpedoed towards the voice’s owner. They crashed into the wall behind them.

The ferocity of the water quelled. The person did not retaliate. They wiped the water from their face, flicking it onto the floor. The woman was wearing a bright pink hijab. She was wearing a modest, knee-length navy dress with black leggings underneath.

“Not the warm welcome I expected,” she commented dryly. She was looking at Jubilee now. Her blue eyes twinkled, not corresponding with her expression. Her lips were pursed, and her expression was serious. She looked Lee up and down.

“You’ve been through hell,” she stated.

Lee took a step towards the woman. She stepped back.

“No…” Lee breathed.

“Are you going to say something?”

Lee studied the woman’s features again: round cheeks, perpetually pink, freckles spilling over her nose, and unruly brown eyebrows.

“Who are you?”

The woman rolled her eyes.

“Come now, Lee-Lee,” she said exasperatedly, “You know it’s me. Esmeray."


	9. Chapter 9

Lee’s foot tapped anxiously white porcelain floor. She was dressed in her finest clothes. Smart-looking, light brown slacks with a pointed crease ironed into the legs, a cream-colored short-sleeved sweater paired with a long, light brown blazer. Her sensible brown loafers were giving her blisters already. Lee’s clothes may have suggested that she was put together. Yet she was still extensively battered. The bruises on her face had faded into an unsettling yellow-green and the splinch would on her side kept reopening.

This was her first time in the British Ministry of Magic. The hexagonal porcelain tiles reflected harshly against the equally bright tiled walls of the hallways. It was very different from the tiny shack of an office the Canadian Ministry had on the West Coast. To relax, Lee reminisced about her time at the Canadian Ministry.

\--

When she was 17 years old, the Canadian Ministry of Magic sought out Lee. They had heard of the British family living in the forest of the Nuu-chah-nulth First Nation: an aurologist and muggle herbologist with their two daughters. There was a liaison stationed at the office who brought the news of a wolf embodied in the child. She reported the talk among the Nuu-chah-nulth – the family was going to rid the wolf from the child.

They sent the Nuu-chah-nulth liaison, Edwina, and a Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures employee, Siobhan, to the house. Edwina led the way for Siobhan, who was gripping her wand. When Siobhan remembered the day that she met Jubilee, she remembered with shame at how afraid she was.

The two representatives spoke with Nassir first, but neither of them was much older than Lee herself and they lacked the professionalism and maturity of their older counterparts. Siobhan asked that they speak to the witch of the house. She had meant Cybil, who had long since disappeared with the youngest daughter. Instead, Nassir presented Lee.

When Lee emerged from behind her father, her brown messy hair reaching past her waist and a glinting ring shining in between her nostrils, Siobhan’s grip around her wand tightened, although it stayed in the back pocket of her jeans. By the end of the conversation, Lee was walking back with the women to their ride for the long journey to Nanaimo. This was Lee’s first encounter with a Snallygaster by the name of Simone.

She was a huge creature, much like what Lee would imagine a feathered dragon to look like. She had a long, arching neck and powerful beak about the size of Lee’s own head. Her lower half had the body of a lizard with a powerful, sweeping tail. Her wings could easily fell a five-mile radius of trees upon takeoff. Simone was naturally curious. She thrust her head against Lee’s body, demanding a pet.

Lee began her work as a researcher, moving back and forth between the Nanaimo office and her home. In the office, there was only her, Edwina, Siobhan, and Sylvia. They’d often joke about their “girl squad.” Sylvia was the mother hen of the office. She was middle-aged with a cropped, greying haircut and a passion for the outdoors. Although each of them was meant to represent a different Department in their Ministry, all four of them tended to gravitate towards the management and protection of magical creatures. Central Vancouver Island was detached enough from the mainland that the central office in Fernie rarely checked up on them.

Lee consulted closely with Siobhan, who was the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes rep, on her father’s potion to regulate lycanthropy. Siobhan was three years older than Lee. She had medium-length, straight auburn hair, and was sturdy in build. She often stored her wand in her hair, tangled up in a bun.

One night, two years into Lee’s employment at the Ministry, Siobhan and Lee lost track of time. Simone would not have been keen on being awoken from her slumber for the flight back to Ucluelet. Siobhan suggested they crash at her place instead.

It was a quick two-kilometer walk from the office. Even though it was the middle of the night, Lee felt safe with Siobhan. She was quick with her wand and had the endurance of an all-star Beater on a professional Quidditch team. When they entered the cabin, Lee couldn’t help her pulse quickening when Siobhan took off her jacket for her. Her fingertips brushed Lee’s shoulders, making her blush. She stayed rooted to the ground, watching Siobhan bustle about her small cabin, tidying as she torpedoed around.

But suddenly, she stopped, squarely in front of Lee.

“Right then,” Siobhan smiled crookedly. Her Scottish accent didn’t leave her when she immigrated to Canada with her family. She claims it to have only gotten stronger. It made Lee’s heart flutter.

Lee couldn’t remember precisely what happened next, but Siobhan’s lips came crashing onto hers. Her hands were cupping Lee’s face and Lee’s fingers swiftly hooked into the belt hoops on Siobhan’s jeans, pulling her body closer. Siobhan pulled Lee’s shirt over her head, flinging it into a corner, while Lee began fiddling with the front Siobhan’s trousers.

“Here, let me,” Siobhan breathed into Lee’s mouth. Her breath was sweet as if she had just sucked on a lollipop. Siobhan unzippered her pants and fell down onto the couch behind her. Her arms were thrown sloppily over her head, hair messy and cascading down her front over her breasts. Siobhan’s white panties peeked out from behind her undone zipper.

“Take them off,” she demanded. Lee didn’t waste a second. She pulled Siobhan’s jeans off down over her ass, leaning down to a kiss a trail down from Siobhan’s ribcage to the hem of her panties and over them, Lee’s lips pressing against Siobhan’s vagina. She heard Siobhan suck in her breath sharply. Lee yanked Siobhan’s jeans down to her ankles. Siobhan eagerly kicked them off.

“Come here,” she moaned, hooking her finger under Lee’s bra strap and pulling her down on top of her.

Their mouths collided again, but Lee made her way down and up Siobhan’s neck. She playfully bit her earlobe and glided her tongue over her ear. Siobhan moaned. She gently pushed Lee upright. The two women were straddling one another now; one shirtless, the other trouser-less, both breathing heavily.

Without breaking eye contact, Siobhan took off her shirt and unhooked her bra in one fluid motion. Her breasts were small, but Lee couldn’t get enough of them. Lee couldn’t get enough of Siobhan. Her hair had tumbled out of its bun fully now. Her vagina was pressed up against Lee’s and she was only in her little white panties. Lee wanted to rip them off. Siobhan smiled coyly.

“You are far too dressed for this event,” she said, leaning even closer so now their chests were pressed together, “How inappropriate of you.”

She smiled as she kissed Lee and undid her bra. Her tongue begged entry. Lee obliged. She slowly laid Lee down onto the coach. Siobhan didn’t stop kissing Lee. Her hands traced the outline of Lee’s body down to her hips. Siobhan so gracefully slipped Lee’s trousers and pants off; Lee wouldn’t have noticed she was completely naked if Siobhan hadn’t placed her hand on her exposed vagina.

“Oh, you’re so wet,” Siobhan muttered into her kiss, “Good… I am too.”

Siobhan pushed one of Lee’s legs over the back of the couch so she could see Lee’s pussy fully exhibited. She looked at it, her hands on either one of Lee’s knees as if spreading them apart. She slowly kissed her way from Lee’s knee down her inner thigh. When she reached Lee’s pussy, her tongue slipped into every pleasurable crevice. It was Lee’s turn to moan. Lee grew louder and louder with every new place Siobhan found. Her fingers entangled themselves in Siobhan’s hair.

“Turn over,” she demanded. Lee was in no state to object. She rolled over onto her stomach and Siobhan stacked pillows underneath her hips to raise them.

“But first,” Siobhan got up from the couch and walked to where Lee could see her, “Don’t you want to see my pussy?”

Lee’s eyes couldn’t be torn away from the white panties in front of her. Siobhan turned around and teasingly slid her underwear down to her ankles, revealing her perfect round ass. She kicked her underwear away and grabbed ahold of her butt, spreading it playfully.

Siobhan got onto the floor, now facing Lee with knees spread wide open. She locked eyes with Lee as she slid one finger, then two, into her vagina. Lee couldn’t help but touch herself too. The two quickened their pace individually.

“I want you in me now,” begged Lee.

Siobhan smiled. She quickly strode back to her original position behind Lee. She grabbed ahold of Lee’s ass, admiring its flawlessness for a moment. She smacked it. Lee yelped, jumping a little. Siobhan grabbed the other side, smacked it again. She was spanking Lee. Siobhan wanted a little more leverage, she stood up next to the couch, and once again, her hand collided with Lee’s rear. Lee liked the sting. She liked Siobhan dominating over her. Siobhan insisted Lee count. They made it to twenty.

“Oh, you need to be rewarded now,” Siobhan said, regaining position behind Lee. Lee’s ass was a bright cherry red. Siobhan felt the outside of Lee’s wet pussy once more before inserting her middle finger deep into Lee, who moaned so loudly, the sound bounced off the walls of the cabin.

Lee lost her virginity that night, something she only told Siobhan after.

\--

“Raywood!” A gruff voice barked, breaking her out of her daydream. Lee jumped a little, flustered. She tucked her hair behind her ears and straightening her blazer in an attempt to compose herself.

Alastor Moody came marching down the hallway from the central lobby where all the lifts met. He was always dressed ready for a battle knee-deep in the mud. His black trench coat billowed out behind him as he walked, and his boots thudded against the ground. Lee stood as he approached.

“Alastor,” she tried to smile warmly, but her nerves made her shake.

He eyed her suspiciously.

“Moody,” he corrected, “Not a person calls me Alastor.”

Lee nodded.

“So,” he shifted back and forth, uncomfortably, “when does this trial begin?”

“Erm…” Lee glanced at her watch, “I suppose soon. Esmie is supposed to come to get us when they’re ready.”

Moody’s eyes flashed, “Esmie? You talking about Pritchard like that? You know her?”

“No, no – not at all,” she responded quickly. Moody didn’t look convinced, but whatever suspicions he had, he decided not to voice them.

“Pritchard’s a tough one, I’ve heard,” he said, casually, “Youngest field agent they’ve got. Came straight outta Hogwarts into Magical Creatures. Werewolf Capture Unit.”

Lee tried to hide her surprise.

“She must be good then,” she said feebly.

“Aye,” Moody agreed, “But no need to worry. You’re here legally. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

She swallowed, nodding again to convince herself Moody was right.

“Raywood, Jubilee Maliyah?” Esmeray stepped out into the hall, her heels clicking. She was decked in her Ministry uniform, a long navy robe.

Moody elbowed Lee sharply when she didn’t respond. Lee took a tentative step forward.

“We’re ready for you,” Esmeray declared, pivoting back into the courtroom. Lee and Moody followed closely behind.

As they walked in, the earlier case was just wrapping up. Two Aurors wrestled with a young man, trying to drag him out. His cries of protest echoed in the high-ceilinged courtroom. The Aurors were not giving in, but as soon as one of the man’s arms broke free from their grip, he managed to toss the other aside like a used tissue and made a mad dash for the door. He would have collided right into Lee and Moody if the Aurors weren’t good at their job.

“Petrificus totalus!” and just like that, the man crashed to the ground, facedown and helpless. When they rolled him over, Lee got a clear look at his face. She paled. The man at her feet, being inhumanely dragged across the floor by his ankles, was none other than Collin, the ringleader in charge of tracking her down.

The members of the court were shaking their heads, putting their distaste on display. In front of them, Esmeray smoothed out her robes, as if she’d been roughed up by the event. It made Lee sick. They resumed walking. Moody and Lee sat side-by-side in wooden chairs before the court. Esmeray resumed her place in the court. She stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of navy blue in her white headscarf.

A woman in the center of the crowd cleared her throat. She peered down at Lee, her long wrinkled neck stretching out like a heron.

“Jubilee Maliyah Raywood?” she said, her voice monotone, set in the routine procedure.

Nothing followed. Moody elbowed Lee again and growled, “Verbal confirmation, Raywood.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” she said, turning a shade of pink at her shaky voice, although the blush was probably hidden by the pattern of bruises on her cheeks.

“And your name?” the heron-like woman turned to Moody.

“Ya ken well who I am, Dawlish!”

Dawlish sighed and rubbed her eyes, “For the official record, Alastor.”

“Alastor Moody,” he retorted. The charmed quill perched next to Esmeray scribbled away.

“Raywood, this is simple,” Dawlish began, “Now that you are residing in Great Britain, it is necessary for you to obtain a BIN - Beast Identification Number. You are being put on trial for avoiding this identification and not reporting to the Ministry of Magic’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures upon arrival in the United Kingdom. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Very well!” Dawlish squawked, “Alastor, can you confirm Jubilee Maliyah Raywood to be a known werewolf?”

“Aye.”

“At what level would you rate the danger she presents to society? Wizarding and muggle alike?”

“X.”

Dawlish cocked an eyebrow, “A single X?”

“You heard me, Dawlish.”

“Very well,” she cleared her throat, readying herself to continue with questioning. Not once was a question directed at her. Dawlish and other members of the court, who Moody spoke to with a uniform level of disrespect, asked seemingly endless questions about Lee. The questions grew more and more intimate. They asked for Lee’s kill count, her pack affiliation, and the details of when she was attacked, among other things. They didn’t seem to care that Moody didn’t have the answers to the majority of their questions.

Finally, Dawlish turned to Lee.

“Raywood, are you literate?”

Lee was taken aback, a deep sense of shame seeded in her chest.

“Of course,” she said, unable to hide that offense in her voice.

Dawlish waved a hand and a long parchment and quill floated down in front of her.

“Please review the following document and provide your signature at the bottom.”

Lee’s eyes scanned through the document. In it was her BIN, a description of what she looked like accompanied by a detailed sketch, her place of residence, and more. On the bottom was a declaration promising her full cooperation with the Werewolf Capture Unit and Werewolf Registry Office, as well as the Beasts and Beings Divisions of the Department.

She knew she had no choice but to sign. As soon as the quill lifted from the parchment, the items popped out of existence to be filed.

“Excellent,” Dawlish chirped, smiling as she flipped over a page on her desk, “Number 563136, Raywood, Jubilee, known Werewolf. You are hereby charged with knowingly collaborating with number 710377, Lapin, Collin, and the pack of the notorious werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures calls for your immediate relocation to Azkaban to serve a five-year sentence.”

Dawlish banged the gavel. Lee felt faint.

“Now, hold on just a minute there, Dawlish!” Moody roared, jumping to his feet, “On what grounds, are you planning on sending this girl to Azkaban for?”

“Truly, Alastor, do you need the evidence read aloud to you? It’s clear as day,” Dawlish rolled her eyes, but Moody showed no signs of backing down, so she reluctantly said, “Go on, Pritchard.”

Esmeray stood up from her seat and cleared her throat. Lee noticed her hands shaking as she read from the parchment.

“Tenth of March 1981, 05:00, tagged werewolf number 710377, Collin Lapin, along with two tagged werewolves, numbers 8855769 and 231543, Laurent Morton and Bruno Byrne, respectively, are seen entering 4631 Sumner Street, London.

Tenth of March 1981, 06:00, 710377, 8855769, and 231543, are sited leaving 4631 Sumner Street, London.

Tenth of March 1981, 07:00, tagged werewolf number 563136, Jubilee Raywood is seen entering 4631 Sumner Street, London.”

Esmeray sat down. She placed both hands on the document and didn’t look up.

“That’s your ‘clear as day’ evidence?!” Moody bellowed, “She’s being sent to Azkaban for entering her own home?!”

Dawlish sniffed, “She is very visibly wounded. The speculation is that she and the other wolves disagreed on an attack.”

“That’s exactly what it is, Dawlish – speculation!”

The two squabbled openly like that in the courtroom for another few minutes. Lee felt the color drain from her face. She sat back in her chair and stared blankly ahead of her.

“Get up, Raywood,” Moody barked the order, hoisting her up from under her arm. Moody guided her out of the courtroom. They didn’t stop walking until the reached the Auror Office, only briefly resting in the lift riding down to Level 2, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

As they walked past the rows and rows of cubicles, Moody kept a firm grip on Lee. His face was twisted in anger and beet red. To an onlooker, it might have been interpreted that Lee had done something wrong, but Moody was, in fact, angry for the exact opposite reason. Lee had done nothing wrong. She was innocent.

Heads turned in those cubicles. Some Aurors standing up to get a better look. Lee stared straight ahead of her, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius Black and Frank Longbottom straighten up in their seats as they passed.

Finally, behind Moody’s closed office door, he let go of her.

“You’re not going to Azkaban on my watch, girl,” Moody slammed her hands down on his desk, “Now sit down and tell me how you’ve gotten wrapped up with those werewolf gits and, arguably worse, how you’ve gotten on Esmeray Pritchard’s bad side already.”


End file.
